


The Curtain Falls

by CharlemagneGryffis



Series: Imagine Dragons [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autistic Tony Stark, Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy, Ballet, Blood Magic, Cultural Differences, Darcy and Bingley, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Dimension Travel, Dimension-Hopping Loki, F/F, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Female Loki, Food, Gen, Genderbending, Intersex, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Has Issues, Loki's Kids, LullabyKnell, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Mentions of Cancer, Parkour, Time Travel, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlemagneGryffis/pseuds/CharlemagneGryffis
Summary: Loki is trying to find her way back to the universe she accidentally left, and Darcy Lewis proves to be much more than she seems every universe she goes; and meanwhile, Loki's children and all the people back home...well.





	1. Chapter 1

In any other world where Tony Stark caused the return of Captain America, it might be made public, it might not. What _really_ happened were rumours, rumours in abundance. A lot of people, a lot of – certain – agencies, decided to follow up on those rumours, to either discover if they were true, and/or create contingencies. In reality, Steve Rogers took little under six months to defrost and awaken, in which time the ‘Larsen’ family took a bit of a beating.

This was mainly due to the fact that their matriarch was missing, and not even Frigga could track her down.

Surprisingly, it was Jormungandr who took the weight of Loki’s responsibilities. He corresponded with Professor’s McGonagall, Snape and Dumbledore, explaining the situation and why it may effect Vali’s behaviours and work ethic. Similarly, he talked with James Barnes and between the two, it was decided that Eisa would stay with James permanently, at least until further notice, and later, when summer came around and Steve awoke, it was agreed that Vali would go live with Elizabeth, Sirius and Bran in Braddock Estate, where Bran had begun training to become the next Captain Britain.

Fenrir disappeared off the map. He only contacted Jormungandr, and even then, only through letters that Jormungandr couldn’t track even if he tried. Charlie was informed of the situation and reacted like any distanced relative living in a distant land would react – he made no further contact past the once-in-a-blue-moon note asking if she had returned, and if everyone was okay.

Meanwhile, in another universe…Loki was in a little trouble. Apparently, appearing in the middle of your brother’s wedding to Jane Foster, without prior warning and with no-one knowing who you were, and then calling the Allmother…well, _mother_ , was cause for some alarm. Not to mention, Loki only woke up after several months of sleep, a new year dawning when she finally opened her eyes.

Eir had informed her that identifying her hadn’t taken long. Not long at all after someone took a second look. Apparently this was a universe where she was, in fact, female – and, just to add to that, imprisoned.

Oh yes, Loki was in a _little trouble_ , alright.

Testing the chains around her wrists saw them to be strong, and durable – not the Chains of Odin, but certainly, _potentially_ just as strong, if powered with enough magic. Opposite her, Thor sat in the remodelled golden throne, Lady Jane, Frigga and Odin at his side.

“-cell? You will not explain anything at all?”

Loki realised Thor was speaking to her. “My apologies, I didn’t hear any of what you said at all. Why am I here again?”

Thor ground his teeth, “Loki, there are currently two of you in Asgard – one here, and one in a cell. _How are you here?_ How did you duplicate yourself? How did you escape from the Chains of Odin?”

Loki rolled her eyes. “Tis simple, you big, blonde oaf – I am not _your_ Loki. How many times did I tell Eir that I only wish to return home?”

“You are home,” Thor frowned. Loki pinched the space between her eyes, wondering if Thor was dim in all the multiverse.

“No, I am not. Asgard is not my home, especially not _this_ Asgard. As it is, I live on Midguard.”

“Midguard?” Jane questioned out loud, “Why would you live there?”

Loki eyed her, “That is none of your business, Dr Foster.”

Jane looked confused, “You called me by my name. You never do that.” Loki gave her an odd look.

“Why would I call you anything less?” Loki tried to remember her original meeting with the mortal woman, but it was escaping her, at present. “In any case, it would be an insult, especially after what I have done.”

Thor tensed, “And what have you done, Loki?” Loki snorted.

“Nothing untowards, Thor, you may be assured of that. I simply spent enough time on Earth that I became both bored and annoyed at my lack of understanding – I hold Masters of Science, and a PhD, now. So it would be strange for me to call Dr Foster anything less than what she has achieved, when I myself hold such similar titles.”

“Master of Science,” Jane corrected, after a beat. Loki shook her head.

“No. Masters of Science. I completed three Masteries – biology, chemistry and physics. You hold a Mastery in…Astrophysics, was it?” Loki’s brows knitted together as she tried to remember-

_Ah_.

It came back to her with a grimace. “Yes, Astrophysics…are you familiar with the concept of the multiverse?”

“Yes.” Jane blinked. “Why- oh, oh that’s _fascinating_. This isn’t _your_ Asgard.”

Loki smiled fleetingly. “Yes. I have never seen a universe where Thor has been crowned though – apparently I interrupted your wedding, with my appearance here. My congratulations.” Jane smiled, flushing.

“Thank-you.”

Thor looked confused, “Sister?”

“I am not your sister,” Loki replied without thinking, before blinking, realising what she’d said…and left it at that. She wasn’t his sister, blood or otherwise, and to top it off, this wasn’t even her Thor. “I am also not from this universe – I am from another, where things went differently.” She would leave out the fact that she had moved to a new universe, and unless it was pertinent, she would not be mentioning _any_ of her children.

“A far-fetched tale.” Came _his_ damning voice. Loki looked to Odin, where he stood near Jane. “And how do we know you are not telling falsehoods?”

Loki clenched her jaw. “You do not.” She wanted to leave, she wanted to go _home_. “I think I will take my leave now.” She looked at her chains, pulling her magic to do her bidding, cracking the chains and removing them from her wrists. Rubbing at her wrists, she fixed the collar of the infirmary dress, which had been bothering her as it always did whenever she was forced into it. Grimacing, she summoned a set of clothes from her counterparts rooms, warping them to fit as they settled over her skin. Her eyebrow rose in fascination as she saw a gaping hole in the side of the tunic, the leather eaten away by…

“Is that Níðhöggr venom?” _Interesting…did my counterpart take part in that dastardly farce of a dare, then?_ She remembered, from her own universe, when Fandral had drunkenly dared her to try riding one when she tagged along on Thor’s hunting expedition, once. She had refused. _This must be the outcome of my counterparts failings_. Amused, she summoned a different tunic, returning the other to its place in her counterparts rooms. Turning, Loki made for the exit, ignoring Thor as he called after her in anger, waving away Einherjar that tried to apprehend her with small blasts of magic.

Exiting the Throne Room, Loki wondered where to go. She had to get back to her own universe, obviously, but she didn’t know the way. So, she needed a focus, something from that universe, as a guide… _my dress._ For once, she had bought it, rather than transforming her usual ensemble.

Heading towards the Houses of Healing, Loki wondered what to do when faced with Eir. Now, if there was one sorceress in the multiverse she never wanted to face, it was Eir – healers, after all, were the best killers, if they chose that path.

She turned a corner, not expecting the tiny form that ran into her legs. Looking down, Loki blinked at the toddler, wondering who she was. The child was fair-faced, with big blue eyes behind overly-large frames, and dark brown hair that was soaking wet – just like the rest of her. The child was naked as the day she was born.

“Hello?”

The girl looked back down the corridor, before moving to hide behind her legs. Loki looked down at her in bemusement, turning her torso slightly to do so.

“What is your name, child?”

The girl glanced up at her, surprised, “You don’t know who I am?” Her speech was clear, and Loki found herself revaluating her age. _Not a toddler, no – a young child, a very young child, but no toddler_. With Aesir children, it was always hard to tell. “But we’ve met before!”

“Oh? Have we? Well, I seem to have forgotten your name and face, young one – please forgive me, for I have just spent many a moon in the Houses of Healing. I am returning there now.”

The girl went to reply, only for Loki to pick up a frazzled-sounding voice, calling for a ‘Princess’. The girl looked to the corridor, skin paling. Loki raised her eyebrow, tracing the child’s features.

_Thor, how upset was mother, I wonder, when you explained to her that you were having a child out of wedlock?_

Glancing down the corridor, hearing a door open, the calls for ‘Princess Darcy’ becoming louder, the voice all at once much more familiar, Loki found herself grinning. Maybe she should stay a bit longer, for clearly this child was as mischievous as she, and any child of Thor’s was her kin, no matter her feelings for the man himself. She looked down at the child behind her legs.

“By any chance, did you escape Huldra’s grasp right upon the ending of bathtime?” The girl bit her lip as she tried to stop a grin. It was all Loki needed to conjure a towel, picking the girl up and transporting them outside her counterpart’s rooms. The girl gasped.

“Where are we?”

“We are near somewhere we might hide from Lady Huldra, small one,” Loki whispered, before putting her hand to the doors. They glowed a dangerous green at her touch, one which she was far from amused at the sight of. _My counterpart is dangerous indeed_. Even her mother wouldn’t dare touch the enchantments locking these rooms.

But she overturned the enchantments, knowing their design well – she created them, after all. The doors clicked upon, the green disappearing, and the girl in her arms reached over, pushing them open. Loki was greeted to the familiar sight of her living room, round firepit in the centre still lit and warming the room, awaiting her – or rather, her counterpart’s – return. Entering, Loki shut the doors again before walking over to said firepit and sitting on it’s edge, setting the child on her lap.

“So, your name, _princess?_ ” Loki teased, using the towel to rub at her damp skin. The girl blushed.

“Darcy – Princess Darcy Thordottr, Crown Princess of Asgard, Goddess of Stars and Constellations.”

Loki hummed, “You must get on very well with Máni.”

“He said, when I’m older, he’ll take me in his moon chariot, so that I can see them up close.”

Máni was a romantic, always had been – even when he didn’t want or mean to be. Loki could remember the many times that Sol had to inform Máni’s pursuers that he didn’t mean to flirt with them, and that he was just being himself, and also, that he was married to Sol herself and they had better step away before she took it as a challenge. He probably saw Darcy as some form of pseudo-child, or at least, disregarding her status as princess, someone important. _And if she is the stars, well_ , Loki thought about how Thor would have reacted to that. _He probably thought it suspicious, until he saw him with Hjúki and Bil._

“What’s your name today?” Darcy asked her. Loki hummed in a questioning tone. “You always have a different name, and you say that we’re playing the Game of Names, and if I ever guess your name right, you’ll owe me your eternal loyalty- or something like that. You started speaking in a funny language and I didn’t know what you meant. And your hand went a funny colour. What’s your name today?”

Loki, who had been slowly becoming more and more still, at that, swallowed silently.

_Oh my. Just what have you sworn to this girl, sister-mine?_

“Today…my name is Daphne.”

“Like Daphne and Apollo?”

“No,” Loki shook her head, thinking of Vali’s Daphne, of all the stories she’d ever heard of the opinionated young witch. “No. Have I…ever told you a story, about a secret society of witches and wizards on Earth?”

Darcy shook her head. “No. You’ve told me about father and his wedding to Þjazi though.” Loki chuckled.

“I would have. It’s still one of my favourite memories to this day. Do I tell you a lot of stories?”

“Uh-huh. Can I hear about the witches and wizards?”

“Of course. I shall tell you of how _I_ discovered this strange society. It began when a young boy got a letter, inviting him to a school of magic…”

* * *

The funny thing is that most people know time passes differently on other planets. They’ll have read about it, studied it, seen it in a movie. In this case, it’s Asgard where time passes faster than it does on Earth. While Loki sleeps a year, elsewhere those pivotal six months till Steve Rogers awakens pass. In some ways, it’s good – Loki’s children don’t miss her as long. In other ways, it is not.

Loki thinks her children _have_.

She wonders what Eisa looks like, if she’s doing okay in school, if she has a new father in the form of Captain America, if James has forgiven her for her idiocy. She feels guilt, and grief, and becomes desperate, even as she stays calm.

Loki and desperate do not mix.

So, a couple of hours after Princess Darcy runs off, and not even Heimdall can find her, and Asgard is in full panic-mode looking for their young princess, Loki is toying over whether continuing to teach her niece how to braid hair correctly according to her station, marital status and what sort of day it is, or using Darcy as an unwilling pawn in getting her way, so she can get home quicker.

Loki doesn’t want to use her niece, a child, as a pawn, simply on principle. But, as already stated, Loki and desperate don’t mix.

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes,” Loki replied automatically, before realising her blunder. “No.”

Darcy tilted her head back so she could look at her with a confused expression. “Yes or no?”

“…yes _and_ no.”

Darcy watched her for a little longer, before narrowing her eyes, “Do you have a mom and dad?”

“In a way,” Loki said carefully.

“Do you have a brother or sister?”

“Two brothers…one sister,” _Elizabeth is like my sister, is she not?_ “What about you?”

“Nope. Mommy can’t have any more babies. Malekith stabbed her when she and Nana were protecting me when I was littler.” Loki refused to show her shock.

_Dr Foster didn’t have the aether – **Darcy** did, as an even younger child than she is right now._ It reminded her too much of Eisa, and her former troubles with magic, and Vali and his transformations.

“Do you have any babies?”

Loki pressed her lips together tightly before answering, “They are not babies anymore.” Darcy swivelled around, and Loki had to drop her half-finished braid before she was tugging on it.

“You have more than one? How many? What are their names?”

“That is none of your business,” Loki said in a dark tone, anger accidentally slipping in. Darcy’s enthusiasm faded slightly, before bouncing back immediately.

“Can they play with me? Or are they big people? Do they not play games anymore?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” Loki muttered under her breath bitterly, before taking her waist and dropping her off her knees, standing up and brushing down her tunic. With a wave of her hand, the doors opened. “Go.”

Darcy looked at her with hurt, “Mommy says its good to ask questions though…”

“Well not to me,” Loki sneered. “Now leave my quarters.” Her magic lashed out defensively, causing the girl to fly backwards out of the doors, which slammed shut. Loki sucked in gulps of air, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed her hands against the sides of her head, water leaking out her tear-ducts. “I must get home.” She had already been separated from her children once before, she refused to let it happen again.

So: she stepped sideways.

* * *

“She did what?” James stared at the principle, who had her lips pursed tight.

From beside him, the red-faced father of the boy currently sitting in the nurse’s office, in his expensive blue suit puffed out hot air, glaring at James, gesturing wildly through the window to said son, who was sitting with his distraught mother.

“My son’s nose is broken because of your kid! He didn’t do anything to deserve that! I’ll sue you!”

James glanced at him sceptically, before walking a step forwards and turning to Eisa, crouching down in front of her. “Eisa, did you punch him? If you didn’t, you need to tell me what really happened, and if you did, then good shot and your punishment is having to actually take part in more than just your mandatory swimming.”

Eisa pulled a face, “But I don’t want to do anything else!”

James looked at her tiredly. “So why did you punch him?”

Eisa swallowed, looking at her lap, fiddling with her cannula. “He was being mean.”

“How was he being mean?”

“He kept saying that it’s my fault I don’t have a mom.”

Immediately, James clenched his jaw.

“Dollface, your mom going missing is not your fault. Bad people were after her for things she had no control over – and she’s coming back. She’ll find her way home. She’ll find her way back to you and the others if it takes the rest of her life.”

The principle interrupted, looking alarmed, “Mr Sawyer, is there something wrong with your daughter’s mother?”

James glanced at her, and the other father. Both seemed pretty worried. He didn’t answer, looking back to Eisa.

“I was going to tell you after school, but I guess you’ll be suspended anyway for this, so might as well tell you now,” Eisa glanced up, eyebrows furrowing. “We’re moving. Because of Steve coming back soon.”

“Is he going to live with us?” Eisa questioned. James nodded. She let out a soft _oh_. James pressed his lips together at her quiet exclamation, before standing and looking to the other dad there.

“If he was five years older, I would have said he deserved it, but he’s barely nine – I’ll wire a couple hundred to your account if you want compensation. We’re packing up in the next couple weeks anyway.”

The dad nodded, “That’d be good.” He reached into his pocket, taking out a notepad and pen, jotting down a number. “My name’s Ward – Matthew Ward, and that’s my son Thomas.”

James nodded, taking the paper offered and glancing at it before putting it in his pocket. “Fine. Eisa, let’s go,” he looked to the principle. “I’m signing her out at reception.” The principle smiled tightly, before James took Eisa’s hand, pulling her out of the office towards the exit. Signing her out, he waited till they were strapped into his used Toyota pick-up truck to speak.

“You do swimming on a Thursday after school right now. I checked the area around our new place – you’ll go to the on the Saturday morning instead, and do any clubs you like during the school week, provided they’re actual activities.” He glanced at her oxygen tank. “Your doctor told me that you’ll be able to get a new kind of tank in New York.”

Eisa’s head whipped around, eyes wide, “New York? We’re going to live in _New York?_ ” James grinned.

“Yeah, and just to add to the magic, we’ll be in central Brooklyn.”

Eisa whistled, “Awesome…so Steve will be coming to live with us there too? Have we got a house?”

“An apartment, right now, but it’s pretty big…your ‘Uncle Tony’ is paying for it.”

Eisa grinned, “You’re jealous cause I call him _uncle_ , aren’t you?”

James pffted, turning to start the pick-up, “Nah, just wary. He’s a weapons manufacturer, and a computer geek.”

“Like me.”

“Like you, except worse, and I don’t want you picking up any bad habits.”

“I won’t pick up any bad h-”

James gave a sarcastic laugh, “Oh _really_ , Miss I-forget-to-eat-my-sandwich-and-banana-because-I’m-too-busy-writing-down-equations-in-my-notebook-during-lunchtime?”

Eisa scowled, hitting his arm as he pulled out of the parking lot, “That’s not true! I don’t like bananas – or tomato salad sandwiches! You mixed mine up with yours again!”

“No I didn’t – I asked if you wanted one while you were at your computer and you said _yes._ I’d class that as a bad habit you picked up from _Uncle Tony._ ”

Eisa didn’t have anything to say to that.

* * *

“Norns above, Vali!” Hela stared as he practiced his free-running, his friends completing their homework assignments just off to the size. “What in my name are you doing?”

“Free-running,” Jormungandr rolled to a stop beside her, flipping up his skateboard. “It’s really _freeing_. He’s stressed out from all these exams he’s doing in a few months. What are they called again?” He looked to Luna, who smiled serenely at him.

“Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, Your Highness, or just NEWTS. But they’re doing them next year, not this year. Though they are all doing end-of-year exams. I’m doing my OWL’s this year – His Highness is just getting worked up because of the pimleybugs.”

Jormungandr nodded as if he actually knew what pimleybugs were, running a hand through his hair, revealing a runic tattoo on his wrist that had Hela grabbing his moving limb. “Hey!”

“What did you do to yourself?”

Jormungandr stole his arm back, “They’re warming runes. It’s fucking _cold_ in this country.”

Tracey snorted, “You get cold in _Malibu_ , Jor.” Jormungandr sent her a slightly glaring look, before Hela tried and failed to conceal a loud gasp as Vali started free-falling from a tall podium, only to bounce back up as a trampoline appeared. Tracey looked over to her bouncy friend. “Val, your sis is getting freaked out. Either switch to a skateboard, or rejoin our study-group. I’m getting bored over here.”

Daphne, in answer to her boredom, flipped her to a new page in her Ancient Runes text. “Translate that, then write it backwards in both Orchon and Yenisei format in a way that gives it the opposite properties.”

Tracey looked at the sequence she’d pointed out. “Ooh…”

Vali, over on the parkour course, jumped into the foam shapes pit. “No, I can’t – studying will scramble my brain. I need a break.”

“So…” Jormungandr lifted up his skateboard in question as Vali climbed out of the pit.

He shook his head, “No. I just- I need something calming.”

“Ever danced before?” Hela asked, after a few seconds. He looked at her weirdly.

“Well, yeah, at the Yule Ball-”

“No, I mean, dancing as an art,” Hela clarified, pushing a strand of blonde behind her ear. “Like ballet.”

Tracey started choking all of a sudden, trying to both laugh and breathe at the same time – even Daphne had a small amused look.

“Vali doing _ballet?_ ” The Ice Queen shook her head, going back to her books. “You must be insane.”

Hela pursed her lips, before going towards Vali. “Dance with me.” She offered a hand, serious. Vali looked at it like it was a poisoned dagger.

“Why?”

“Because I want to teach you to dance,” Hela snapped, eyes flashing a dark brown, blonde rippling to brown briefly. Vali took her hand. She breathed deeply. “It’s not that bad, actually – it’ll take a lot of effort, actually, but it might be just what you need.”

Blaise snorted, “Oh, this will be _priceless_. Prince Vali Sigynson, parkour athlete, muggle enthusiast, the Vanquisher of Voldemort – _ballet dancer_.” Vali glared, grip on Hela’s hand tightening.

“I won’t give you a reason to laugh if I can help it – Hela,” he looked to his sister, “teach me ballet.”

Hela smiled a toothy smile, “It’ll be my pleasure, brother-mine.

* * *

_ 13 February of 1997 _

_Dear mother,_

_I decided to start a journal, within which I would write my letters to you. When you return, you can read them, and know everything I wished to tell you over the time you were gone. I wrote other letters before, but I threw them away, not having thought of this method before. We miss you. Eisa apparently broke someone’s nose because they said it was her fault you were gone. Dad told her it wasn’t, and when we found out, Hela took me from Hogwarts with the others to see her, to back him up. She lives in New York now, in Brooklyn, in a tall skyrise. When Steve Rogers wakes up, he’ll go live with Dad and her._

_Jormungandr’s been taking care of us. He’s stepped up to the plate, making sure we’re okay. He’s around a lot – he’s teaching me more skateboarding tricks, and Hela’s teaching me ballet. Yes, I know, quite odd. Ballet. Eisa’s learning too, at a fancy beginners club in Manhattan on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, and Hela’s helping her. She’s really enjoying it, too, and I promised I’d act as her partner when she’s older._

_I can do that. Be her partner. Sooner than people might think, too. Hela and I collected three of Death incarnate’s items, well, I did. Hela didn’t want to touch them, because they would react with her powers and send her to Niflheim, and she wouldn’t be able to return until they were given out again to Three Magical Beings. Not giving them to Hela made me this kind of ‘Master’ of Death. In reality, it means that when I sleep, my spirit goes around helping souls reach Niflheim, but unlike Hela, angrier and more vengeful spirits can hurt me, cause me to die. I really hope you come back soon so you don’t read that. I’ve already enchanted this journal to be indestructible and impervious to tampering, even by myself, so I can’t erase or cross that out._

_But in any case, being Master of Death renders me immortal and unable to age. I’m stuck at sixteen and a half. It sucks. I don’t even have a beard. But a pro is the fact that I can be Eisa’s dance partner because I’m technically not an adult dancer, at least according to Hela, and I’ll look like it too, even when she’s twelve and I’m twenty…I’ll be seventeen in a couple of months. Eisa’ll be nine. It’s so weird. She’s growing up so fast. I can remember when you first placed her in my arms, after you rescued me from the Dursley’s and told me I was your son._

_I miss you, mother, and I must go now, but I do truly miss you, and wish for your swift return._

_All my love,_

_Vali._

* * *

Tracey raised an eyebrow at Jormungandr, raising the giant, heart-shaped bar of chocolate up to head-height.

“I’m taken, as you already know.”

Jormungandr shrugged, taking a drag of his cigarette, causing her to clench her jaw.

“Then why-”

“Jormungandr Lokison!” Came a call from down the corridor. Hogwarts students backed out of the way of Daphne as she swept over to them both, bouquet of flowers – white, red, and a tiny hint of blue, wrapped in a fine emerald ribbon – a calm, blazing fire in her eyes. “Why did you deliver these flowers to me – and on Valentines day, no less? You know perfectly well that I and Tracey are…” her eyes zeroed in on Tracey’s chocolate. “Oh, you didn’t…if I find out you’ve given her flowers too-”

“Ladies, both of you, ask yourselves this,” he interrupted her, motioning to each of their gifts. “Why would I send something to both of you?”

“Because you’re being a dick,” Tracey said frostily, before the irate blonde went to slap him. He caught her hand, grinning.

“The Ice Queen holds a fiery heart and an understanding of the Flower Language, while her loyal Knave of Crystal Diamonds can be seduced only by what another offers to sate her thirst, or in this case, stomach. Daphne, Tracey,” he looked between them, eyes serious, “I would ask you both to consider having me as your Consort.”

Tracey looked at him incredulously, “What? You- you want to be our _consort?_ You’re the Prince – _we’d_ be the Consorts!”

“No,” he shook his head viciously. “I have no want to tie you to the Throne of Asgard. I’m asking to be your companion, in this life you are living – I know better than to tie myself any closer, when longevity and human lifespans set us apart.”

Tracey didn’t know what to think. She glanced at Daphne, who was staring at her bouquet. She hesitated, before replying, “We didn’t know you felt that way, Jor.” By this time, there was a crowd, students pointing and whispering. Tracey turned around to face them.

“The bell rang two minutes ago – get to class, and if you don’t have class, bugger off.” The crowd quickly dispersed. Turning back to Daphne and Jormungandr, she froze upon seeing Daphne pressing up against Jormungandr’s body. “Daph?”

“One moment, Tracey…” she muttered, not breaking eye contact- _oh, eye contact_. Tracey breathed a sigh of relief, stepping up to take her hand as she continued rifling through Jormungandr’s head. _Daph always did have a problem with legillimancy over long distances._

When she broke away, she looked to Tracey. “He’s quite serious about his offer, and I think we should take it, for at least a short time.”

Tracey short-circuited. “We- we what?”

“We should take his offer, see how he acts. It’s difficult to be a paired couple – a triad is just asking for trouble, if you don’t start out right. There’re signs.”

“Like with any relationship?” Tracey questioned rhetorically, remembering when they first got together. She knew what Daphne meant now. Looking to Jormungandr, she opened the chocolate bar, breaking a bit off and eating it without blinking, or looking away from him. As predicted, it was butterscotch flavoured, her favourite. Jormungandr watched her in a similar manner, before Daphne took his chin and pressed a chaste, close-mouthed kiss to his lips.

_That’s hot_ , Tracey couldn’t help but think, admiring the contrast between Jormungandr’s low-life appearance in comparison to Daphne’s perfectly pressed and arranged uniform, milky legs that went on forever leading down to small black heels. _Daphne’s hotter though._ Daphne pulled away, looking to Tracey. She gave a nod, which Tracey returned.

Walking up to the two, Tracey grabbed Jormungandr’s shirt, tugging him down for a kiss the exact opposite of calm.

_What harm can a trial-period do, anyway?_


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy had been taking out the trash when a woman appeared in front of her out of nowhere. Freezing in place, Darcy wondered if she was seeing things, before the woman turned around and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing here Loki? I already told you-” but she stopped herself as she saw Loki become confused. _Oh no._ “Lokes? Cupcake, please tell me you remember me. I really can’t deal with your amnesiac self today, not when John is refusing to come out of a Science funk.”

Loki blinked, still confused, not saying anything as Darcy rolled her eyes and wiped down her hands on her shirt, hopping the fence to take Loki’s hand, leading her towards the park. Hopefully once they were there, Loki would actually say something – after all, it wasn’t unusual for Loki to be despondent, especially when she was having a big memory problem that day, but the park always brought some form of awareness.

Once they were there, and settled on the swings, Darcy looked to her phone, peering through the lab security feeds. She let out a silent sigh of relief at seeing Thora there, finally awake and distracting John from Science.

“So, Reindeer Games – and yes, I _am_ stealing that nickname from my dad today, so don’t diss – what’s up today? Odin being a dick? Miss your mom? Your kids larking about being little shits?”

Almost immediately, a knife was at her throat, Loki in front of her glaring at full-force.

“Do not talk to me about my children.”

“Huh.” Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so that’s a sore point. So tell me, how’s Jormungandr?” Loki trembled, and Darcy inwardly cussed. _She’s stuck on the day he died or something._ Pushing the knife away from her neck, she wrapped her arms around the Goddess, pulling her into a hug. “It’ll get better, Lokes. It might not get better fast, and there might be a bumpy road ahead, but you’re Loki – Queen of the Realms, Empress of the Night. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

There was the flash of the Bifrost behind them, and Darcy looked around, only to blink in confusion at the sight of…Loki _. What?_ She looked back to the Loki she was hugging, not understanding as she watched her rub delicately at her eyes.

“Darcy, get out of the way. That is not me.”

“Well she certainly looks like you,” Darcy replied, staring at the woman. Lowering her arms, she stepped back, watching the woman’s face. _She’s hurting_. Darcy could see it, plain as day. “And she’s certainly got some trauma.”

“She was going to kill you.”

“She got defensive about Jormungandr!” Darcy snapped at her on-then-off again partner. “You would get defensive too – you _have_ been defensive. Just leave her be.”

“I’m trying to find my way home,” the other Loki’s voice cracked. Darcy looked back at the shaking woman. “Odin nearly caught me. He had- he _found_ me, somehow. I didn’t mean to run, but I did, and I do not know which way to turn.”

Darcy’s Loki came forwards to stand beside her, arm wrapping around her waist possessively as the Einherjar circled the other Jotun.

“What happened in your universe?”

The other Loki pursed her lips, a stubborn fire glowing dimly in her eyes, before it dulled and she spoke, eyeing the circle of Aesir around her as she did.

“I escaped the Chains of Odin by stepping sideways, and…and I made myself a life. A life on Midguard. I would like to go back to it.” She locked eyes with Darcy.

And then she disappeared.

* * *

Loki appeared in a new universe, gasping for breath. Her magic was pulsing, straining, trying and trying to make itself compatible with both the old and new universes’ magics. _I need to rest_ , Loki sucked in a breath, before dropping to her knees, only then realising she was somewhere cold – no, more than cold. _Freezing_. Loki looked up and around blearily, frowning only lightly at the large expanse of blue and white surrounding her.

_Where am I?_

* * *

Eisa blinked at the sight of the skateboarding park across the road. She looked behind her to the ballet studio, then back to the park. _New York is weird_ , she thought, shaking her head. That never would have happened in her old town. Looking to her phone, she saw she’d gotten a new text from her dad while she was in practice.

**_Going to be late. Go to the park across the road. I’ll see you in an hour._ **

Frowning, Eisa looked left and right before crossing, entering the skatepark and catching sight of two cops nearby. They must have been good ones, if her dad had thought it okay to leave her in the middle of Brooklyn for an hour. A lot could happen in an hour.

“What you doing here, kid?” An older boy shouted from the top of a high quarter-pipe. “This parks for skaters, not dancers! Go home!”

Eisa wanted to glare at him, but he had a point. It was times like these she wished she’d stolen her board back from those stupid bullies. _Dad wants me to stay here for an hour though_ , the girl remembered all of a sudden. How could she stay if she was being told to go away?

“Didn’t you already hear me? I said, go home!”

Eisa balled her fists, eyes narrowing, before she felt her magic inside bubble for the first time in a long while. Not wasting any time on thinking why it was burning so strong all of a sudden, when she’d been doing her exercises every morning and night, lighting and blowing out candles and putting on her clothes without using her hands, she pushed her magic into her bag, making a skateboard form. Crouching, eyes still on the boy, she unzipped her bag and took the newly-formed skateboard out, relishing the feel of hard wood and emery under her fingertips.

The boy seemed surprised for less than a second, before his expression twisted into one very familiar to the young princess.

“What you gonna do with that, chinky?”

Eisa stayed silent, zipping her bag up and then her hoodie, rolling up her sleeves and placing the board on the ground. Stepping on, she pushed off, at first feeling a little wobbly – she was taller than when she was last on a board, her sense of balance slightly off. _I’ll fall if I’m not careful._ So she was careful.

And then she sped up, and the boy didn’t jeer as she held her own, not falling off once…though maybe her magic helped a little. Once or twice.

“Eisa!” Came a familiar call as she paused on top of the quarter-pipe. “Over here!” Eisa followed the voice, grinning at the sight of Jormungandr skating through the park towards her, before raising an eyebrow at the sight of all the tattoos now in sight, able to be seen due to his sleeveless shirt.

“Jor, what are you doing here?”

He grinned, before putting a cigarette to his mouth, speeding up and joining her on top of the quarter-pipe. “Your dad’s stuck in traffic. Ol’ Steve-o’s been moved to a different facility in the last few days, so it was a longer trip than usual – he couldn’t get in front of the rush-hour.”

Eisa grimaced, and then grimaced more for different reasons. “Can you stop?” She pointed to his cigarette. He shrugged, before stubbing it on the rail, vanishing it a second later into nowhere. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I won’t do it when you’re around. How was school?”

“Boring.”

“School always is.”

Eisa shook her head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. School’s not supposed to be boring for me – I’m ahead loads of grades for my age. But Dad finally let me go to a different classroom with older students. Before, it was like, the others would talk? And I would hear them while I was doing my work, and I would know what was going on, but now, ‘cause everyone’s older…”

“It’s different, ‘cause they talk about different stuff.” Jormungandr nodded, stepping closer to her out of the way of another skater, who came a little too close as they came up the ramp. “It’s called being more mature. It’s why your dad wanted you with kids your own age, even if they’re more stupid.”

“I miss Bran.”

“You’ll get to see him in the summer,” Jormungandr replied. “Hela said that’s when Steve-o wakes up though, so I’ll be your transport – just make sure not to be caught in the country by the police, or there’ll be some questions we really don’t want to have to answer.”

“Okay,” Eisa nodded, before looking over behind him to where people were doing tricks, watchers cheering as it got more intense. “I wanna show off – do tricks with me?” She put her board down, going down the quarter-pipe towards the giant bowl of skaters, not giving him a chance to reply. He rolled his eyes though, before following.

“I’ll warn you,” he called after her, “I’m better than you!”

“I know! You’re supposed to be! You’re my big brother!”

If Jormungandr felt a little – see: a _lot_ – happier at her comment, he didn’t say.

* * *

_ 28th of April, 1997 _

_Dear Mother,_

_We miss you dearly. Hela still hasn’t tracked down Fenrir, or Jormungandr. I miss him too. It’s odd, because he wasn’t that talkative if it wasn’t Hela, and he was always just standing in a corner all the time. He’s my brother though, and Hela’s…changed, without him, in both a bad way and a good way. She doesn’t change between her two forms as often without him. She’ll stay happy for ages, and then she’ll be a bitch for weeks. That’s the good way, in my opinion. The bad thing about his disappearance is that now she’s sort of clinging to me. She’s even leaving the Room of Requirement to follow me around school, sometimes. The teachers either make her sit in a corner with a book when she joins me, or tell her she isn’t allowed to sit in, and then she’ll literally hover over my head for the rest of the class. She will literally float above my head for an hour._

_Snape’s given me so many detentions over the past month that I only get because of her. I think I’m going to be an expert in scrubbing cauldrons before the school year finishes._

_Another thing is that Jormungandr’s in a three-way relationship with Daphne and Tracey. It’s kind of confusing, but I think he’s like…their consort? Concubine without the children thing? It’s not an equal relationship, like, he’s a third wheel, quite literally. He said it’s because he accepts the fact that he’s immortal, but he would “still like romantic relationships, with sex and romance”. Quite honestly, if he hadn’t been so responsible lately, and the fact that I know Daphne and Tracey really well, I’d worry I was going to be an uncle. Anyway…_

_Admiral died. Apparently he got ran over. Oh, and Uncle Loki took Marcia to Asgard. Grandmother has taken a liking to her._

_Also, Eisa told me about how she’s having some problems with her magic. It’s flaring up randomly. The first time was in a skateboarding park, and it was fine, she redirected it. But the second time it happened in her flat, and she blew up her bathroom sink. Jormungandr’s spending more time with her. Hela told him to go to her, that something was happening with her directly related to your disappearance. She didn’t answer my questions, but I’m not stupid. I remember when she was having trouble with her magic – you did something, didn’t you? And now that you’re gone, it’s reversing, or her magic is overfilling and you aren’t there to absorb it, or just SOMETHING. We need you back, mum. Please, come home to us. Find a way. Come home. PLEASE._

* * *

The moons were a stranger hue than usual. Darcy frowned at them, before looking away. It was bad luck to look at the moons for more than a few seconds. Her instincts were telling her to go north-west, or rather, north _west-_ west. _Someone needs your assistance_ , the Whispers curled in the back of her head. Darcy knew others would have ignored it – it wasn’t right to follow the Whispers, or to do as they said. Whispers led you astray, and Whispers would lead you to your doom.

Darcy didn’t really care about what they said though, when the Whispers had led her to her dearest companions and let her save them from themselves.

She glanced at them, where they followed behind her. Clint was asleep, being carried on Bruce’s large back in a basket. Laura was with him, and so were the children – including young Prince Loki. They had saved him from being kidnapped by King Odin only a few weeks ago, along with the Casket of Winters, which Tony protected now, embedding it in his chest and disguising it as heart-light. Heart-lights were both rare and common enough that those who saw it would know what it was, yet be unable to sense that it was not what they claimed.

As such, Steve always stayed close to Tony. Closer than usual, at least. Bucky too.

“Where are we headed, my lady?” Natalia questioned quietly. Darcy looked to her flame-haired Heart, squeezing her hand.

“The Whispers are leading me somewhere.”

Natalia looked out onto the horizon. “Are we going to gain a new one?”

Darcy shut her eyes, trusting Natalia to guide her as they continued to run across the wintery plains. The Whispers whispered, and Darcy smiled.

“More than one.”

* * *

Loki awoke to the pungent odour of smelling salts, jerking in place. Her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of what seemed to be a cave – _how did I get here?_ – before catching sight of the person in front of her. Loki sucked in a breath at the sight of her brother.

Her brother who was undoubtedly a _Frost Giant_.

Thor mumbled something in a familiar tongue – one which Loki had never thought she’d hear him speak, _ever_ – before moving away, revealing the rest of the cave. Loki swallowed upon discovering they were not alone. The ones she knew as the Twins, Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver, the Vision, the ones she knew as Falcon and Ant-Man and Iron Patriot, and two more women, one young girl, and four men, the young two of which that made her frown in confusion.

All were Frost Giants.

“Where am I?” She questioned, making sure to speak in the Jotun dialect, noticing with pain that she was in her Jotun skin.

“We found you in the snow, asleep and in a different skin from which you were when we touched you,” Thor replied. “Wanda says your magic is strange, and folding in on itself. She has helped it adapt to the magic of Jotunheim. You have been asleep many days.”

“Oh…thank-you, Lady Wanda,” she glanced at the Scarlet Witch, knowing Thor could only be talking about the young Maximoff.

“I am no lady,” Wanda murmured. “Who are you?”

Loki spared a look for each in the cave, and found no reason to tell her true identity. “I am Lena Valerdottr. May I know who you might all be?”

“Of course,” Thor was gracious as expected, raising his hand to motion to them each in turn. “This is Wanda, and her twin brother Pietro. Then we have Scott and his daughter Cassie, and Sharon and Maria – they are a Heart-couple. Then there is I, Thor, and Samuel and James, and Vizh, Wanda’s Heart-mate. And then there comes Peter and Wade, an…unorthodox Heart-couple, to say the least.”

There were several snorts from around the cave, before the one addressed as Wade leered at ‘Lena’, scarred face warping it strangely.

“What do you think, Petey – should we ask her to join our harem?” Loki stared at him, disturbed, before Thor clapped a hand on her shoulder.

“Ignore Wade. His humour is crude. And last but not least, the newest members of our clan, the brothers Helblindi and Býleistr.”

Loki froze.

 _My brothers. My blood-brothers._ She stared, fascinated, Helblindi meeting her gaze a few seconds later.

“We know, you know – you think we can’t recognise our own familial markings?”

Loki blinked, confused. “I beg your pardon?” _Familiar markings?_ Without thinking, her hand went to her head, covering the most obvious of her birth-marks. That was when she understood. “ _Oh…_ my apologies.”

Helblindi glared. “It is not you who should apologise, but unfortunately, our father is dead, and Odin Frost-Bane rules over Jotunheim, bastard runt sister.” At that, Loki felt a flame of anger, but tamped it down. It would not do to lose her head.

Then Býleistr started speaking, and by the _Norns_ , she wanted to smack him.

“You shouldn’t even be alive, bastard sister. We should just kill you now, runt, before you try anything – like kill us instead.” Býleistr glared, and Loki could see the youth in his eyes, but it didn’t make it any better. Loki calmed her face and stood, Býleistr and then Helblindi and all the others matching her. Habit dictated Loki have Thor in her sights at all times, and she included Wanda in that too, as the sorceress caused dark red light to glitter around her hands, too reminiscent of the Aether for Loki to ever be comfortable.

“What are you going to do, bastard runt sister?” Býleistr sneered, and Loki stepped forward, until she was right in front of him, level with him. Only a tiny dash of magic was needed to stop Helblindi from pushing his younger brother behind him.

Loki slapped him. Hard.

“Respect your elders – _especially_ ones related to you by blood,” Loki didn’t like the silence her coldly-given order brought, but changed her temperament, nonetheless, becoming more of the person her children would recognise.

After all, they _were_ her brothers, and she would treat them as such.

“My apologies if my existence upsets you, young one,” she murmured, “But not everything is as it seems. I was running from the person I called father and found myself here, and other strange worlds, where things were different. The first time I was able to hide from him, I found myself in a world where I already existed as a boy – he was Prince of Asgard.” Half the room made noises of hate, fear at the word. Loki kept her eyes on Býleistr. “But he found me, and I ran again, through worlds and worlds until I found myself on another world, much like my original, but not as much time had passed, and the man I called brother had a wife and child. Tiny changes cause Yggdrasil to branch in different directions…such is how I found myself here, in a world where my brothers escaped Odin and Laufey is dead. Unfortunately, I cannot say his death displeases me.”

Býleistr glared, before stepping closer, towering over her. “You are a bastard and a runt – we are not your brothers.”

“And yet you call me sister?” Loki scoffed, “You are but a child.”

“I am to be full-grown in less than two hundred years!” He exclaimed, causing Loki to eye him strangely. “Why do you look at me so?”

“No reason,” Loki said after a pause, before looking to the surrounding Jotuns. She wanted to just disappear, to try find her way home on her own, but there was something holding her back…she didn’t know what it was, but it was if her mind were suddenly full of voices, her magic pushing her to stay. _And I have never met Helblindi nor Býleistr before._ Loki breathed in, deciding to trust her instincts, her magic.

She would stay.

But now she had to figure out exactly _how_.

Loki looked around the cave, looking at all the signs of life, of living. This was a home, somewhere this clan called safety. She had been invited in, been cared for and helped – even after being recognised. Her eyes travelled to Wanda, and a small smirk grew on her face.

“I would leave now, but I realise I owe _someone_ a debt of gratitude, one that I would repay over time, if she let me.” She looked to Thor. “Might I stay some time?”

Thor looked to his fellow clan-members, a slight frown on his face, but Loki knew her brother inside out – he wanted her to stay, and it would be a strange day in any universe that Thor did not get his way when it came to Loki, especially when their father was not included.

“We must deliberate as a group,” Thor began, “but as you say, you have a debt to pay. Please, feel free to take a walk outside while we talk.” Loki nodded, before looking back to Helblindi and Byleistr, nodding.

“Brothers.”

They nodded back, before intoning at the same time, “Sister.” Loki looked away, making her way to the mouth of the cave – a crack in which only a small amount of light streamed through.

Thor would have his way. She was sure of it.

_Let the games begin._

* * *

The manor was huge. And intimidating. Vali looked to Bran. “Your house is scary.” Bran shrugged.

“You get used to it. Want to see the underground lair?”

“You have an underground _lair?_ ”

* * *

Tracey didn’t usually like dudes defending her. She could do that herself. Or Daphne could. Whatever. But it was different when she was defending herself from things that she was insecure about, and no-one was around to back her up. Like she’d already said, she defended herself, though usually she at least had someone at her shoulder as a silent springboard, so she didn’t feel so alone.

Right now, she had no springboard, and Pansy was _definitely_ being a bitch over something she had zero confidence in defending on her lonesome.

“-not to mention, he’s a lowlife.” Tracey’s fellow sixth slash seventh year frowned, Millicent behind her glaring frostily. Pansy didn’t make any move to make her girlfriend stop. “We support you and Daphne, Davis, despite our reservations.” Reservations. Meaning, her prejudiced opinion of her half-blood stature. _At least she isn’t being rude about my race or sexuality – that would make her a hypocrite._ After all, Millicent was her _girlfriend_ , and no matter what Pansy’s mother said, ‘Peter’ Parkinson’s signature was always written _Pedrinho_. “But bringing this…this piece of _dirt_ into your relationship? It’s strange and causes a stain on your reputation – or rather, Daphne’s reputation.”

Tracey tensed.

Pansy continued, “You have to think of what other people are going to say, Davis. The fact that he’s supposedly Lady Loki’s son doesn’t hold any weight, even disregarding the rumours that it isn’t true. Daphne must be convinced to send him away, before she turns seventeen this Mabon, and then, hopefully, our elder’s will believe it was simply a childhood mistake. If not, well…either way, you would be the concubine of the relationship.” Tracey bristled at the more-than-an-implication. But Pansy was telling the truth – the Wizarding World was an open one, where the only wars and prejudices were based on blood, rather than skin-type or nationality. Of course, people still had their fears, and traditions, and they were all still British.

And unfortunately, one such belief that came from their hypocritical ways of thinking, was the seemingly universal, ‘heterosexuality is default’.

If Daphne was seen in a relationship with a man after her seventeenth birthday, all her claims of being homosexual – or otherwise – would be discredited. Obviously, Daphne – and Tracey – were bisexual queens, as Draco liked to mutter, his sense of drama only increasing over the years, but Daphne was from an old family. Or her mother was, at least. The Greengrass’ were a relatively new family, actually, having only emigrated from Portugal in the seventeen hundreds. They were rich, from old, but foreign money, and were in the same circles as old families, but were new enough to be able to converse with the lower class, and serve as the lead trading family in most of the modern magical world without stigma.

Daphne’s mother though, was the type of person the Greengrass men and women had married for the last few centuries so that they could _get_ that reputation, and therefore integrate into British Society.

 _Therefore_ , if Daphne was seen with a man, no matter what anyone said, no matter how they tried to change the way people saw it, Tracey – half-blood, unknown family from an unknown place, _not a pure-blood_ – would be forever labelled Daphne’s mistress. Or rather, Daphne’s _husband’s_ mistress.

“You see what I mean, Davis?”

Tracey grit her teeth, but nodded. “I understand.” She didn’t want to understand, but she did. Tracey breathed in, cursing under her breath in French. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t seem to want to though.”

“Observant as ever, Pansy,” Tracey muttered, before hearing her name. Turning her head, she saw the man himself, arm around Daphne’s shoulders casually as the blonde practiced a slight of hand trick Jormungandr had been determined to teach her that morning. “Jor, Daph, hey.”

“Tracey,” Daphne murmured, leaning down to kiss her lightly before sitting in the seat Jormungandr pulled up for her. Pausing in her practice of hiding her silver sickle, she looked to Pansy and Millicent. “Pansy, Milly – how are you?”

Pansy gave a blasé smile. “Lovely. How are you?”

Daphne hummed lowly, in a tone that told Tracey something was up. She put her sickle away. “I am in a tricky predicament, actually. You see, I overheard your conversation with Tracey here.”

Tracey’s blood ran cold.

_Fuck._

“-and I ran a few ideas over with Jormungandr on how to get the word out that _no_ , Tracey is and will in no way be my _concubine_.” Daphne’s voice was ice, her eyes glinting like sun on frozen glaciers as Pansy went absolutely still. “And then I realised that your family holds stakes in the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and several other continental magazines. The news, _gossip_ – what better way to spread recognition of healthy romantic relationships? So, in light of that, I would like to buy them.”

“What?” Pansy sucked in air sharply. “You want to _what?_ ”

“Oh, did you not hear me?” Daphne’s voice was still cold, but now it was full of mocking, and Tracey had to remind herself that it was aimed at their friend of convenience. “I want to buy the Parkinson shares in all the news outlets of Europe. Am I making myself more clear, Heiress?”

Pansy nodded quickly, “Yes – yes, you are. I shall speak to my mother, and send you a letter. Is that satisfactory?”

Daphne gave a spine-chilling glare, right lip quirking. “Yes. Now buy me an ice-cream.”

At that, Pansy gave her own glare, trying and failing not to grin. “Get your boyfriend to buy you one. I have to save my allowance up for school supplies.”

Daphne snorted delicately and Tracey’s shoulders dropped finally, eyes slipping shut. A hand found hers on her thigh, dragging it up to be held on the white table-top.

“Jormungandr, buy me an ice-cream.”

Jormungandr looked over to Florean’s packed inside sceptically, “You think I’ll be able to get one before you decide to leave.”

“No. Get me one anyway – and a new one for Tracey.”

The Prince grumbled something about picky girlfriends, which probably got him a glare, before leaving.

Daphne squeezed.

Tracey squeezed back.

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Steve swatted his arm about, trying to shut off the noise. From years of practice, he woke up, opening his eyes and sitting up, swinging his legs off the bed he was on, only to get tangled up in the covers, losing his balance and falling. He tried to grab onto something – but what he grabbed onto just came tumbling down with him, with an almighty _crash_.

At least now, the beeping was gone.

Steve looked around, becoming confused and wary. He was obviously in some form of make-shift hospital, but everything was too smooth, too…clean. He untangled himself from the blanket – _too soft, too compact, too warm_ – and picked both himself and the device that…was connected to him, up. It looked to be very mechanical, and he felt a pang of guilt.

It looked _expensive_.

Swallowing, he unlatched himself from it, not even wincing as he took out the needle leading to what seemed to be an IV. Then he folded the blanket up and placed it on the end of the bed he’d been lying on, even more baffled at the sight of a tag. Reading it, he became especially confused – since when did they import Chinese products?

“Captain Rogers,” someone greeted him. Steve jumped, turning around, trying to locate the person…and then the speaker, but if it was a speaker, why wasn’t the voice tinny? There was no-one there, so it _must_ be a speaker, unless they were hiding. “Captain Rogers, my name is Jarvis – Jarvis Stark. You are in central Manhattan, New York, and the date is July twenty-second.”

July.

It had been November when he went down.

“How…how long has it been, then?” His mind whirled at the implications. Had he been in a coma? Had they fished him out of the water – had he been asleep? Where was Peggy then? She would have wanted to be there when he woke up. _Don’t be stupid_ , he then chastised himself, feeling guilty, _if you’ve been asleep this long, she probably went back to work. There was still a war to win._

Then he realised who had been talking to him. “Jarvis? Jarvis…Stark? Howard’s butler?” Had Howard done something insane, like make them legal brothers or something?

“No, Captain. I would request you follow the lights on the ceiling to a viewing room, so that I may explain what happened since your…dip into the Atlantic.” Steve furrowed his brow, before catching sight of a flashing white light above a door. Wary, he walked forwards, only then noticing that he wore a paper hospital gown, thankfully with a pair of boxers to protect his modesty. Opening the door, Steve listened carefully, wariness turning into suspicion at the lack of noise.

_Soundproofing._

The ceiling itself had a long white line of lights, going in two directions. The way _he_ was supposed to go showed itself as the left side of the wide corridor turned blue.

Steve turned right.

“Captain Rogers, please turn left.” Jarvis spoke, sounding both cordial and worried. Steve pursed his lips.

“Get Howard on the line.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Captain.”

Steve made a noise of discomfort, before standing straight, drawing his shoulders together and continuing on down the corridor. Things weren’t adding up.

“Captain, please.”

“Tell me where I am.”

“You are in Manhattan, New York, in the United States of America-”

“Tell me where I _really_ am,” Steve ordered, voice cold. He could hear voices up ahead.

“Stark Manor.”

 _That_ threw him for the loop.

“Stark Manor?”

“Yes, Captain, you are in Stark Manor of Manhattan, New York City, in the state of New York and the country that is the United States of America. Now, would you please turn back the way you came and follow the lights to the viewing room? Mr Stark shot a three-hour long video for you to watch, and installed a hot-dog cart for you to peruse at your leisure.”

At the mention of hot-dogs, Steve’s stomach rumbled.

“An entire cart?”

“An entire cart.”

Steve swallowed, glancing down the corridor, ears straining for any hints or clues. All he got was a child-like squeal and a bark of a dog.

“Who’s down there?”

“You will be meeting her in a few hours, along with some old friends, Captain Rogers – don’t worry yourself.”

Steve hesitated, before nodding, and turning around.

After all – Jarvis promised hot-dogs.


	3. Chapter 3

“No, no, not like that – here,” Vali went forwards, correcting Bran’s posture. The young boy furrowed his brow, staring at the sword in his hand.

“Why do I need to learn how to use a sword, anyway? I have _super-powers_.”

“Having superpowers means nothing. I have magic – doesn’t mean I’m always going to be able to use it. If I get in a fight outside the Wizarding World, I’m legally obliged not to, or I could be chucked in prison, reputation be damned.” Vali nodded, before stepping back, holding up his own sword. “Parry. Defend. Strike. And again…there you go- up!” He lifted the sword-end with his own, glaring lightly. “Stop dropping your sword. Now.”

Bran looked contrite. “Sorry, Vali.”

“Too right. You’re lucky I’m not letting Hela on you, at least until you know the basics. She’s not very good at training, though she can certainly lower her level of combat prowess, temporarily.” Hela above them glared, before muttering something in Norse which Vali replied to sharply, causing her to disappear into the shadows. “Finally.”

“She likes to follow you about,” Bran noted.

“Yeah,” Vali said tiredly, “ever since Fen disappeared, she’s had a tough time. Now – lift that fucking sword, before I smack you with mine!”

* * *

Loki furrowed her brow at the characters in front of her. “But what is it supposed to mean?”

“That’s what you have to translate to find out,” Helblindi said sagely. “Didn’t your growing-parents teach you this tongue, sister-Lena?”

“As I have told you before, despite your continued disbelief, I grew up in another realm.”

“I do not believe you, sister-Lena, because there is no way a Jotun would be welcome, or at home on another realm,” Helblindi said smartly, “Our physiology does not allow it.”

Loki snorted, knowing her own like the back of her hand, “Trust me, brother-Helblindi, I _did_ grow up on another realm, and if I could prove it, I would.” Unfortunately, it was, by now, a reflex that she could not control, to change into her Jotun form when it was too cold for her Aesir one – and it was far too cold for her Aesir body, even when the fire was hot enough to scorch her fingertips.

Though, that wasn’t very hard, seeing as Jotun’s were susceptible to fire.

“Continue with your story, sister-Lena, amuse me – you will crack eventually.” Helblindi grinned at her, causing Loki to roll her eyes and look back to the runes drawn on the tanned hide in front of her. “So, what do you think?”

“I _think_ that I need to introduce you to the utterly incomprehensible language that is _English_ , for if you ever wish to greet your nieces and nephews and be _understood_.”

* * *

Quite honestly, Loki was enjoying her time in the Jotun clan. She didn’t think she would, but in seemingly no time at all, Loki was finding a place for herself. It was burgeoning, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Literal, through the fact that she had been relegated to providing assistance in carrying their belongings to and fro from the cave to a nearby village, so as to make sure they were not stolen while they worked; metaphorical, through her grief for the home she’d made, and just how _easy_ it was to live on Jotunheim with her true people, rather than Asgard.

Helblindi was her favourite, of all those in the clan, even past Thor. Her baby brother, or, if you saw it the way it truly was, her oldest brother, was caring, and dedicated to teaching her everything he could about their family, and their home. Apparently, her knowledge of their culture was woeful. He openly wondered where she was ‘truly’ from, half-jokingly theorising she had been brought up by a leper in the Star Islands of the north, or that Laufey had given her to an elderly couple in the south, who people stayed far away from due to their lunacy – he refused even for a moment to consider she truly had grown up on Asgard in another dimension, as the daughter of Odin Frost-Bane.

For that little tid-bit, her own clan called her mad, in a way that made it sound real, and nothing to worry about at all.

Býleistr, on the other hand, was a little shit, and it became clear soon into her stay that it wasn’t unusual for him to be slapped by the females of the clan. Laufey was a misogynistic bastard that liked to ‘teach his son that isn’t an incompetent wiseman the benefits of women’, and it hadn’t yet faded away, too ingrained into his psych. Loki’s appearance though was a wake-up call to the young prince, and Loki’s experience with children plus the fact that she had declared herself embarrassed to have such a brother made it difficult for him to get away with things. A plus was that no-one – not even Helblindi – stopped her from disciplining him.

Of course, then Helblindi had to explain that as the oldest of their family line, and as the one with the most family members by blood in the clan, meant she was automatically the matriarch – if not the leader – and that disciplining him was her privilege until she left them, either by death or choice, where the title would once more fell to Wanda, who was a little less fearless about slapping royalty than Loki.

Quite truthfully though, Jotun culture was Loki’s own wake-up call.

Sitting outside the cave on watch, Loki idly looked up at the moons. She didn’t believe in the little fable young Cassie told her, about bad luck befalling her if she stared at them too long. Fables were different from Sacred Things, after all. _I wonder if I could ever bring my progeny to Jotunheim, if I make it home_ , Loki wondered idly, eyes fluttering shut as she fell into sleep.

_A campfire, surrounded by familiar faces – the Avengers, Frost Giants, those she had yet to meet in this universe. The Darcy girl sat amongst them, staring at the moons until her eyes turned white and they turned on Loki._

_“Oh. Hello.”_

_Loki tilted her head. “Hello, strange one.”_

_Darcy stared at her with milky eyes for a short while longer, before speaking. “One thousand and three lefts, eight rights, and one step…upside down. When I see you next, you will have a choice to make. Either your family before, or your family then. Oh, and when you wake up, roll to your right.”_

_Loki frowned. “What-”_

She blinked awake abruptly, hearing a whistling in the wind. Without thinking, she threw herself to the right, only to wince as her hand scraped on a rock, drawing blood. Beside her, a spear pierced the ground.

“ATTACK!” Loki cried loudly, scrambled to her feet and grabbing the spear, slipping into the cave as another spear whistled past her ear. The rest of the clan were already drawing weapons, looking to her. “We are being attacked – look.” She thrust the spear forwards, showing them, not able to recognise the tribal markings fully. All she could see were the symbols for blood, and fire.

Peter groaned, “Oh shit, it’s Francis.” Beside him, Wade whooped, drawing two swords from under their furs.

“Yeah! Let’s go already – time to finally kill Francis and his minions!”

Thor laid a hand on Wade’s shoulder, “We must be patient, Wade, you know this.” Wade’s shoulders drooped.

“I know man, but I just really want to give him a taste of his own medicine.” He padded the scars on his face, and quite suddenly Loki had an acute vision of what looked to be Wade on a stone table, a lean Frost Giant rubbing thick red powder into an open cut on Wade’s forehead. Shaking it out of her head, Loki all at once wondered if a Jotun ‘fable’ was the Aesir equivalent to her mother’s summer tales about Sacred Things.

“What must we do?” Loki questioned, Sam replying.

“We need to wait until dawn. Francis is a sorcerer and an infamous alchemist. He messed with people, changed them – Wade would have been one of them, but he escaped, and managed to destroy his Hall while he was at it. But not everyone escaped, and Francis likes to use them to attack clans. It’s probably complete coincidence that he attacked the one Wade belongs to, but still...”

“Enough stories, what are we going to do, lightning-boy?” Wade was literally shaking, and it somewhat disturbed Loki to realise that while he was obviously angry, the shaking was in excitement. _He is truly looking forward to this_ , Loki grimaced, thinking back to when her Thor was young and war-mongering. Wade looked to her sharply, “Hey! I’m not war-mongering!” Loki blinked. Had she spoken aloud? “No, the author just finally remembered that I’m fucking Deadpool, and I’m omniscient.”

**You are not omniscient.**

“Sure I am!” Wade looked directly up, Loki glancing at their fellows in confusion.

“What is he doing?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s just what he does. Ignore it.”

**Wade, help me decide whether your Peter is Andrew Garfield or Tom Holland.**

“He can’t be Tom Holland. You’ve already decided that my Petey in the X-Men universe is Andrew Garfield, and Tommy is the MCU Spiderman. So this _has_ to be Tom Holland.”

**Or Andrew Garfield, because I think you got mixed up there and I’m not very comfortable imagining you with a teenager.**

“Oh, that’s understandable – and I’m not supposed to be in this anyway, you just went and got creative, so sure. This universe’s Spiderman is Andrew Garfield, and in Loki’s universe…or her second universe, has Tom Holland as Spiderman. And hey! That works out with your plan to make Captain America and Bucky-”

**SHHH!**

“Oops, sorry Charles.”

**It’s Charlie. I’m a girl. We’ve had this conversation before.**

“Well, not us, because that was in a one-shot for your Tumblr page that you published on fanfiction.net too – go check it out, readers, this is a promotion from Deadpool himself! – but okay, yeah, sorry Charles.”

**Charlie. Charles is Charles Xavier, remember?**

“Meh.”

Loki blinked at him, before slowly looking to Thor, wondering who he was talking to – and also wondering if anyone picked up on the use of her name, or rather, Helblindi and Býleistr _brother’s_ name. A glance at them showed they had. And they seemed to have also noticed the feminine pronouns.

“Thor,” she mustered up a cool tone, “How do we proceed?”

Thor frowned at the entrance, where muffled shouts echoed through. “Francis and his warriors have undoubtedly surrounded us by now. We must approach the situation with caution. Wade? Wanda? Would you provide us some distraction and cover, respectively?”

Wanda nodded, Wade giggling, expertly twirling his swords around, the cinema-like whistles causing Loki to raise an eyebrow, before she looked to her hand. Clicking her fingers silently, she begged her fire magic to appear, having been unsuccessful before.

 _Please. Please…_ A grimace filtered across her face as nothing formed. Redirecting her magic to tricks more suited to the form she wore, Loki surprised the cave’s inhabitants by summoning a sword of ice, perfected during her lonesome watch’s, so much better than the paltry spikes that normal sorcerers of Jotunheim could create.

“Sister…it must run in the family, to be so powerful,” Býleistr said in awe, for once not one hint of spite or anger in his voice as he stared at the sword. Loki hummed, before swinging it around experimentally, naturally falling into her practiced forms which she had memorised long, long ago. It didn’t surprise her when the clan-members tensed. They were Aesir forms, after all.

“If I may question your statement, brother-Býleistr,” Loki spoke neutrally, “You say it runs in the family?”

“He does not know what he speaks of,” Helblindi shook his head, lips pursed. “Our newest brother, Loki – he is, was but a babe, but his magic was already so powerful. Much like you, he was our half-brother, father’s new Queen, Farbauti, our step-mother. She died birthing him, but she was a powerful sorceress, said to be the niece of Mim the Sage herself. Býleistr means well, but his words are inaccurate.”

 _But are they?_ Loki thought, before Thor spoke again, quickly and methodically giving them orders, going by a strategy that Loki recognised as one of Thor’s earlier creations. It seemed that not everything had changed – though it did irk her slightly for Wanda to take her place as sorceress, in this occasion. Loki was merely backup.

It was only when they were exiting the cave did it occur to her who Mim the Sage might be, causing her to both chuckle and despair.

_Mimir the Wise. Or rather, Madam Mim – I wonder if he ever met the Wizarding World’s Merlin?_

* * *

Francis and his people didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

James wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to calm his racing heart. He was nervous. Very nervous. Exactly nine days ago, Steve had woken up from his coma, and had – after some convincing from JARVIS – watched the movie Tony had created, which recapped the last fifty or so years. Steve had been devastated at how long he’d been under, but Tony had been good enough to include as many top secret things as he could, like SHIELD’s creation and the fact that James was alive. Steve had nearly broken the door trying to get outside to him, until the movie continued on to James’ own addition.

An explanation, about what had happened to him after becoming the Winter Soldier. An explanation as to why he had two kids who called him ‘dad’.

Steve had refused to see him for three days, in which time Jormungandr borrowed Eisa, taking her to Braddock Estate where Vali was living alongside Bran himself, who was happy to see Eisa back. Tony, surprisingly, was Steve’s ally, convincing James to give him some time to think it all through. Tony himself met with Steve before James did. Tony said they got on okay – apparently Tony including the fact that Howard wasn’t a good dad in his movie had been a little confusing for Steve, and it took a very frosty conversation, but they were good now.

When Steve and James reunited, James refused to admit he cried. Nope. Nu-uh.

Then they caught up…in the rather biblical sense. James _did_ admit that he was confused about that part for their entire sub-reunion, until afterwards and Steve showed him part of the video Tony made – taking his time trying to work the controls, and picking it up suspiciously quickly – about Tony rolling his eyes about James and his ‘heart-eyes’, and how he wasn’t as secretly gay as he liked to think, even with the ex-girlfriend.

Yeah. James was going to kill Tony for that. One day. When he didn’t owe him as much as he did.

But now Steve was going to meet his kids – they were attending Vali’s seventeenth birthday party, which Hela had organised with Tony. All of Vali’s siblings were attending – with the exception of Fenrir, who was off the grid and nowhere to be found – and so were his friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius and some others who had insisted. He thought their last name was Malfoy, or something. Vali and Eisa knew they’d be meeting Steve today.

Or rather, any moment now.

“Hey,” Steve muttered, “it’ll be fine. I’m sure we’ll get on great.”

“Yeah,” James was unconvinced. Then they appeared out of nowhere, dropping to the floor in a whirl of blue light, a rope dropping to the ground. Eisa lost her balance, but managed to instead turn it into a backwards roll, from feet to feet, before she spun around and caught sight of him, her face lighting up.

“Dad!” She lurched forwards, James catching her and pulling her up off the ground to hug her, grinning as she wrapped her legs around his chest and arms around his neck. “Dad, Bran’s house is _huge!_ And he has an underground lair!”

“An underground lair, really?”

“Uh-huh,” Eisa nodded decisively, before her eyes flickered to Steve and she slowed, visibly becoming nervous. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Steve greeted, smiling. “I’m Steve.” Eisa bit her lip, before hiding slightly in James’ arms. Steve’s eyes flickered to the small group that Eisa had arrived with. James glanced over too, noting that Vali had arrived with…a lot of people, and Vali himself was currently in the process of extricating himself from underneath a fallen… _I know who this is. I will get their name right…Blake. No- Blaise! Blaise._

“Get off me,” the wizard muttered to his friend, who seemed to be perfectly fine with lying on the ground. “Zabini, get _off_. Now. Before I take a picture.” _That_ had him up quickly, the blonde friend of Vali’s – Daphne? – smirking at him while the only other woman of the group – _that must be Tracey_ – snickered loudly.

“Vali,” James caught his attention as he got to his feet, “This is Steve.” Vali blinked, before looking to Steve, who focused on him.

“Oh. Right. We were supposed to meet you.” Vali cleared his throat, before coming forwards and holding out his hand, speaking formally. “Vali Sigynson, Prince of Asgard, Prince of Jotunheim, God of Undetermined Aspects, future Supreme Sorcerer of the Nine Realms and Wizarding Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter – though I’m better known as Vali Lokison, and Vali Larsen-Sawyer, through the fake identities of my mum and dad.”

James snickered at Steve’s face.

“Using full titles now, are we, _Your Highness_?” Sirius grinned, causing Vali to turn and flip him the bird. “Such a rude child.”

Vali rolled his eyes, before looking back to Steve, letting go of his hand. “I understand you’re my dad’s partner?” Steve flushed, looking to James, before Vali continued. “Okay. That answers my question. And all that titles bullshit doesn’t matter right-” then he cut himself off, and James wondered why…only for the door to the room to open, Tony swaggering in, followed by Prince Loki and Queen Frigga, wearing formal Earth clothes.

“Didn’t know _they_ were coming,” James muttered, before Eisa looked over and gasped.

“Nana! Uncle Loki!” She scrambled down James, running over to them, slipping through the crowd of people to crash into Prince Loki’s legs. “Uncle Loki, teach me how to dance like Aesir people – I want to show it to my friends at ballet.”

Prince Loki raised an amused eyebrow, “Oh? Did your mother not teach you before?”

“She did, but I’ve forgotten a lot of the steps, and I keep getting them mixed up with dances from Scotland.”

Steve nudged James’ arm, “This is the Loki from this universe?” James nodded.

“Loki – or Lady Loki, cause it’s confusing at the best of times – made nice with them up on Asgard, or something, except with her dad, because he’s a dick, and Frigga and Prince Loki come down to spend time with the kids.” James explained. “Didn’t know they were coming to the party, but it’s important in Vali’s culture – Wizarding World’s age of majority is seventeen. He can use magic outside of school now.”

“Sounds rather complicated,” Steve murmured, breathing in deep, like he did when he was trying to keep his head, back when he was still skinny and ill, so his asthsma couldn’t get him. “It’s all so strange though.”

James snorted, “Too right, it’s fucking strange.”

“Language, Buck,” Steve scolded, and James wanted to bite back, but there were kids in the room, so he was perfectly right in correcting him. Then Tony came over, scotch in hand.

“So, your ex brother-in-law is hot, just like your ex.” Tony smirked at James, who gave him the stink-eye, before the billionaire cleared his throat and spoke to the room at large. “Hello! If everyone can just follow the blue lights on the ceiling to where there’s more room, you’ll find a snack bar, an actual bar, and a music player with all the classics loaded up and ready to go. I’ve got best table reservations at Martinelli’s-”

“You got best table reservations in a mob’s restaurant?” Steve blurted out in horror, and even James’ eyes widened in surprise. Tony glanced back at him, giving him the stink-eye.

“I’ll try not to be offended that you’re calling my pseudo-godmother’s family restaurant part of a mob chain. Aunty Angie took it over from her uncle when he died and – with Aunt Peggy’s help, I might add – took over her family’s holdings in the Italian Mafia. It’s run by good people, Rogers, people who’ve known me since before I could speak.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, still sounding vaguely scandalised. Tony looked to James, but he had an awfully similar look on his face that caused Tony to frown, before turning back to the party.

“Anyway. I got dinner reservations for seven pm, and because it’s Italian, we’ll probably be there for like, two hours, so, yeah. Oh, and apparently we have minors, and also, over half of you are British and JARVIS told me to remind you that the drinking age in America is twenty-one, so, uh…if your parents let you have alcohol, have a drink at my bar and, uh, don’t try getting something at the restaurant because you’ll need an ID and it’ll suck if you don’t have one.” He raised his glass, toasting awkwardly. “And yeah. Happy birthday, person I have only met like, twice. I’m hosting so be considerate.”

“Thank-you for hosting,” Vali replied to his speech, causing the genius to turn slightly, having not realised Vali was right beside him.

“You’re welcome. I got you a bottle of some nice shit for you and your friends to get drunk with tonight after we get back here.”

Vali grinned, looking to the teenagers within the group. “Groovy.”

“Are you sure that’s sensible?” Steve questioned. Tony waved him off.

“Wizarding majority. They’re adults in their society, and I already got permission from Barnes.” Steve sent James a surprise look, which he shrugged to in answer. “So, follow the blue lights to the place of calm partying, everyone, please.” Everyone started filing out, and James and Steve took up the rear, along with Frigga.

“How have you been, Your Majesty?” James asked calmly, holding up her arm. Frigga took it with a smile.

“Things have been busy on Asgard, due to the upcoming coronation. We thought about bringing Thor, but he left on an unplanned hunting trip to Vanaheim, and my son thought it may be prudent to wait a short while longer, in any case.”

“You sound angry, ma’am,” Steve noted, causing Frigga to glance at him.

“You are the soldier out of time, the man everyone calls Captain of America…and that is not true, exactly, is it?” Steve’s brow furrowed, and James tensed, vaguely recalling something Loki said once, about her mother having visions. “This land of Ire was very green.” She murmured, making Steve look to James, alarmed.

“Her Majesty can see things,” James informed him, causing Frigga to chuckle lightly.

“Tis both a curse and a burden, James Barnes. It may also interest you to know that I bring good tidings.”

“Good tidings?” James repeated.

Frigga nodded. “A sorceress of Jotunheim, from a universe far, far from us, revealed that Loki will be returning to us in a short time, though there may be complications along the way that prevent her from immediately rejoining us when she finds her way home.”

“Really?” James questioned, staring at the Queen as she nodded gently, looking at him softly. “Thank god…”

“I also bring a warning.”

The Winter Soldier breathed out harshly, all the tension that had left his body returning as they entered the room Tony had led them to. “Of fucking course.”

Frigga glared lightly, squeezing his arm enough for him to cringe. “Other forces, powers, inhabit this world. Loki knew of these forces, but she did not know the extent of to how dangerous their leniency towards old enemies has become. In the coming years, things will happen that you are not prepared for, that you will not be able to fight, simply due to your nature as a human. Others that you know will not be so restrained – all my grandchildren included. Loki’s protections may weaken with her departure, but they are no less solid.”

“Yeah, which reminds me – Eisa’s magic is a little out of control. Can you do anything for that?” James asked stiffly, causing Frigga to tilt her head in Prince Loki’s direction, to where he was reteaching Eisa the steps to an Aesir dance, their connected hands glowing a soft gold.

“I already am.”

* * *

Meeting Bucky’s kids was…weird. It was difficult for Steve to understand all of it – all this magic and time and _people_. Bucky knew so much, and was surrounded by men and women in a way that caused Steve to almost feel jealous. The teenage friends of Vali saw him as Vali’s father, giving him a different sort of respect than he’d seen before, and the two men – Sirius and Remus, two old friends – talked to Bucky casually, but it was in such a way that Steve felt like a third, or rather fourth, wheel. The only people who Bucky _didn’t_ get along with were the two blonde adults, who were apparently related to Vali’s biological father…?

Steve was pretty confused about Vali’s family tree, to say the least.

At least Tony was on the same kind of level as him, though he’d known the family for around six months – the time it had taken for him to ‘defrost’. Tony was rich and proud and annoying, and in any normal situation, Steve would have avoided him at all costs, but they had a camaraderie now.

Which was why, when he slipped out of the party, Tony followed him.

“Where’re you going, Capsicle?”

Steve grit his teeth, “None of your business.”

Tony raised his hands, “I don’t mean anything by it, buddy, but, uh, it’s a bit weird for you to leave. It’s Barnes’ kids birthday party.”

“Exactly,” Steve couldn’t help but mutter, before Tony clapped a hand on his arm.

“Okay, I see what’s happening here – you’re feeling all out of place. Don’t worry, I’m the same. They’re a close-knit bunch, who I would really like to squirm my way into and lodge myself in, but it’s difficult – especially without Lokes here.”

“What is she like?” Steve asked, after a pause.

Tony glanced at him. “They _are_ broken up, if that’s what you’re asking, have been for a while. They were on really patchy terms though, and I sort of made it worse, purely by accident. See, _she_ was the one who found you, and led me to you.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah, I know. Why would you want to basically resurrect your partner’s ex? I thought she was crazy after she explained it all to me, but yeah, she was the one who got you out of the ice. I just paid for it, and got the people out there, and tugged you up from the depths…”

Steve sagged where he stood, hand going to his chin. He couldn’t believe it. Had Loki- had Lady Loki _really_ told Tony where to find him? Had Lady Loki planned for him to be found? Another thought entered his head that had his heart jumping.

Did she break up with Bucky for _him?_

“Why don’t you sit down, Cap? Here’s a chair.” Tony guided him to a beanbag – because somehow, he’d found himself in some form of home cinema room and…not the corridor. _I took the wrong door_. Tony joined him, sitting opposite, feet up on the out of place coffee table, drinking from a bottle. “You want to play cards or something?”

“…cards sounds fun,” Steve muttered, considering it. Tony reached over to the coffee table, opening up the top, to show what looked to be a hidden game stash, with cards, dominoes dice, and even poker chips. “Neat.”

“Yup,” Tony replied shortly, taking out a set of cards and putting the lid back down, shuffling before dealing. “Go Fish?”

“Sure.”

They went through a couple of rounds before they were interrupted.

“Uncle Tony?” Eisa poked her head in. “Dad was wondering where you and Steve were…what are you playing?” She came inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning over Tony’s shoulder.

“We’re playing Go Fish, want to play?”

“Don’t know how.”

“Then we’ll teach you – go over and sit with Cap, I’ve already got a partner.” Tony held his glass of whatever alcohol he had to his chest, causing Eisa to roll her eyes but still go over to Steve, who blinked, before cautiously opening his arms. Then she casually plonked down onto his lap, leaning back into his chest, her hair tickling his neck.

“He’s got one black nine of spades and three red hearts – eight, seven and Jack,” she supplied, causing Steve to grin as Tony pointed at her.

“Cheat! You saw my cards! We’re starting again!” He exclaimed, before putting his cards down and reaching over to steal Steve’s, scowling at what he saw. “Dammit.”

Steve looked to the kid on his lap. She didn’t seem scared, or nervous. _She isn’t looking at me though_ , Steve noticed, before deciding he was going to earn her trust. She was Bucky’s kid, and she was important.

“Let’s teach you how to play Go Fish,” he muttered, before readjusting them both on the beanbag. “You ready to learn, kid?”

“Not a kid.”

“You ready to learn, princess?” She opened her mouth to refute the nickname, but he spoke quickly. “Aren’t you royalty, anyway? Good nickname, if you are.” She shut her mouth, turning her head to narrow her eyes at him. Steve wondered very suddenly if Lady Loki was Chinese, only then realising why he’d immediately thought _ethnic_ when he saw her. _But Prince Loki didn’t look Chinese, or Queen Frigga…_

“She’s royalty, alright,” Tony confirmed, before confusing him even more. “Adopted officially enough to get a title, anyway. Not sure about a throne, but she’s definitely Princess Eisa.”

Steve blinked.

Tony handed Eisa his cards. “Let’s get cracking, then. Now, the point of Go Fish is…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This author would like to note here for the readers convenience that there is a following section inside this chapter that is indeed a minor crossover into someone else’s fanfiction, and that I do in fact have the owners permission. Said owner is the fantabulous, amazing: LullabyKnell, and the fic itself is part of the series, ‘‘Til This Moment’, more commonly known as the dragon!Darcy fic: 'You are the Princess to my Dragon'.

_ 1 September, 1997 _

_Dear Mother,_

_The summer is over. I’m seventeen, and currently on the Hogwarts Express. Daphne, as a prefect, aren’t here – Hermione Granger is Head Girl, alongside Draco, I’ve been told. A Ravenclaw and a Slytherin – that’s sure to impress Gryffindor._

_I chose to continue with my studies, like I have the past three years: DADA, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Care, History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, and Astronomy. Do you remember when I finished my third year, and decided to drop Muggle Studies due to the supremely shit curriculum? Which reminds me – I went through Elizabeth for my muggle exams. I got my results some weeks earlier, but I forgot to mention them. You’ll be happy to know I got straight A’s, and I’ve thought about applying for university, but I don’t know – university means being around muggles practically all the time, and I’d have to choose where to go. I wish you could help me choose where, if I did._

_Fenrir is still MIA. Hela is still hovering, but she disappears every few days for a couple of hours now. Oh, and people in Diagon Alley noticed how I’ve not been aging. That’s another factor to deal with, if I went to uni. It’s actually pretty bothersome, and I still haven’t grown any semblance of a beard. I want one SO BADLY._

_Eisa says hello, by the way. I have a letter from her stuck in here, or at least I will – I’m going to sticky-tape it to the next page after I’m finished. She made me promise not to read it. Grandmother got Uncle Loki to do something to her magic, like you did, but it’s still a little…not out of control, but difficult to contain(?). She has to do a lot more magic exercises because of it though. Dad’s taking her – and Steve – to Hawaii, despite it being school-time now. He’s calling it an ‘adjustment period’. I call it going on a holiday during school-time._

_They waved goodbye at the platform. Steve was really freaked out by half the things he saw, but I think he’ll get used to it soon. I think maybe it was just the fact that there were so many cats – he’s not that fond of them, not like dogs. He really likes Lucky. They go out on runs all the time, and he can keep up with him like dad can. Darling’s lazy as usual, but she never really liked fast walks anyway. Eisa says she’s training her to carry things like how a Bernese mountain dog carries a first-aid kit, so she can carry spare oxygen tanks for her. Tony’s making her these prototypes that are really small and filter oxygen from the air around her, and it fits really snugly on her belt, and even bends! But Tony – and dad – still want her to carry oxygen tanks, in case they fail, because they still are prototypes, and she’ll need a backup if they break or stop working properly._

_Tracey’s asking me if she can write in here. I’ll put speech marks around whatever she wants to say._

_“Hey Ms Loki, this is Tracey Davis. I just wanted to say that everyone’s not miserable or pining, in case you were worried everyone was depressed. They get a bit desolate – ooh, big word – but they’re okay. I promise. And I promise that I’ll keep Vali from getting too flaky while you’re away. Hope you return soon, Miss T. Davis.”_

_I just read what Tracey wrote. I agree with her, I think, though we do really miss you. A lot._

_All my love,_

_Vali._

* * *

“What colour is your hair?”

“Red.”

“Do you have freckles?”

“No. I’m too pale to tan, or get freckles. Russian blood does that to you.”

“And your partner?”

“Partners.”

A pause.

“You have more than one?”

“I have two – is that a problem?”

“It’s weird.”

“Yes, but society says lots of things are weird that aren’t.”

“But _it_ is?”

“Polyamory is almost unheard of among western civilisation.”

“Polyamory.”

“Do you understand the term?”

“A bit. Poly means more than one. Amory is nearly the same in Spanish.”

“How many languages do you know, Matthew?”

“English, Braille, and a little bit of Spanish…and a bit of Irish, too, I think at least. It sounded funny. My nana used to speak it to my dad, but he forgot it.”

“Speak what you know to me.”

“ _Madainn mhath. Tìoraidh_.”

“Scots Gaelic.”

“I thought it was Irish.”

“It’s not. Would you be adverse to learning sign language?”

An eyebrow rose.

“I’m blind. Why would I need to know sign language?”

“Because Clint is deaf.”

Another pause.

“When I’m twenty-one, and I walk into a bar with him-”

“If you finish that sentence, Murdock, I will strangle you, and I won’t care that you’re barely fourteen.”

“Sorry Natalie.”

“Natasha.”

“ _Finally_. I thought I’d me calling you by a fake name forever. So when do I get to meet them?”

“Tonight. They’re coming home from Bucharest. We’re away a lot, as our jobs demand, but you’re old enough to take care of yourself if all three of us are away at any point. If we are, it won’t be for long, but still. It’s a possibility.”

“Are they ninjas like you?”

A chuckle.

“Different kinds of ninjas.”

“Awesome. Will you teach me?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on – Stick taught me lots of stuff. I can-” a hand shot up, catching the thrown shoe “-protect myself.” He shifted his head sideways, dodging the second shoe, which thumped against the wall behind him. “I wondered why you took off your shoes.” He felt around for the second fallen one, getting it a second later.

“Give them back now.”

“Will you help me with my own training?”

“Yes. But I won’t teach you anything new.”

“Here are your shoes… _mom._ ”

“…”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird too. I won’t say it again…so when do we leave, then?”

“Now. Grab your stuff.”

“Great!”

* * *

Thor stepped forward to greet the party. “Hello, where might you be headed?”

“Here.” The Black Widow stated, Loki searching their party for the Darcy woman. “Our clan guide wanted us to come here. She’s asleep right now.”

Thor frowned, “Why would you wish to come here?”

“Darcy probably wants us to join you, or something,” Tony muttered, the quiet ensuring everyone heard him. “She gets weird when she looks at the moons. Also, we found a baby in the High Temple of Jotunheim.”

 _That_ got the clans attention, Býleistr pushing forwards, Helblindi hot on his heels. Loki herself stayed still, watching from a distance as Banner lowered himself to the ground. He was huge, hulking over them all, despite the fact that – excluding Loki, Cassie and the still-growing Býleistr – their clan averaged a good eleven feet, and Banner’s own clan’s tallest – Rogers, and James – were both thirteen feet, at least.

As he removed the large basket from his back though, Loki’s gaze was drawn to Tony again, head tilting at the light in his chest. _How…_ reaching her magic out, Loki did _not_ expect to feel what she felt.

“Why in the name of the Norns do you have the _Casket of Winters_ in your chest?!” Loki snarled, gliding forwards, slipping past her clan-members, only to be blocked by Rogers and James, whose shoulders pressed together as they glared down at her.

“Get away from him,” Rogers growled, Loki’s eyes growing wide. He glared at her, before tracing her familial markings, frowning. “You’re of Laufey.”

“I- I am,” Loki surprisingly found herself stuttering, stepping back, the members of her clan grabbing at her protectively, pulling her into the fold as Darcy herself came out of the basket, rubbing her eyes as she held the baby Loki on her hip.

“Clan mother-Lena, stay back,” Thor warned as Helblindi and Býleistr stared at the baby.

“It is him – it is our brother,” Býleistr breathed. “ _Loki…_ ”

Darcy hummed, blinking sleepily. “Yes, this is him. Would you like to hold him?”

“ _Please_ ,” Helblindi begged, stepping forwards to take him, face full of awe. “Brother-Loki…we thought you _dead_ …” Býleistr pressed up close to Helblindi’s side, staring at his brother. Loki – _Lady_ Loki – watched on, eyes flickering between them and Tony, heart racing.

“The Casket of Winters,” Loki brought up again, “you found it with him?”

“Aye,” Steve rumbled. Darcy put a hand to his arm, looking down on Loki, as her baby counterpart woke and greeted his brothers cheerfully.

“Milady, do you remember what I told you?”

Loki’s eyes flashed, “One thousand and three lefts, eight rights, and one step upside down.”

“Things have changed, but that’s still vaguely correct – but you need to stop every few hundred lefts, and on the third right. You don’t know how to step upside down, and the universes you’ll stop in will have the things you need.”

“Sister-Lena, you know this clan guide?” Býleistr questioned, confused. Loki kept her eyes on Darcy. “Sister-Lena?”

“Her name is Loki,” Darcy revealed, “she travelled here out of fear. But now she needs to return home – the Odin she knows approaches swiftly.” Loki stiffened, before she stepped forwards again, holding out her hands. Darcy took them, and in a moment, Loki was in her mind, a link forming as she saw images – visions.

 _You know the way you have to go_ , her voice swirled through her mind.

 _I do, I see…you are my guide, throughout the multiverse_ , Loki replied.

_I am. But I am both your protector and your doom. The closer you come to meeting me, the safer you are, but the less time you have before Odin tracks you down. Your allies protect you from him, Loki, trust them._

_I do trust them._

_No, you don’t, and I don’t blame you. At this point your allies are few, and they are not yet at full strength._

Loki paused. _Who must I befriend? Who will protect me?_

_You protect yourself. But only one can face Odin and come out unscathed – himself._

_No,_ Loki immediately denied, cringing, _I refuse. I will not befriend Odin in any universe._

_But you must. I have given you directions – and now follow them. He is getting closer and closer._

Loki tensed, and went to let go, to step sideways, to take one thousand and three lefts, eight rights, and a step upside-down. And then she hesitated, remembering the clan who had taken her in – remembering her brothers.

 _I do not want to leave them behind._ They wouldn’t be the same, in her universe, their Loki having been gone for thousands of years – time would have aged them, and Laufey would have warped them. And for all she knew, the Býleistr and Helblindi of the world she inhabited were long passed. _I do not want to leave them behind._

Darcy’s voice in her mind was quiet and tired, as she thought wearily. _I told you that you’d have to make a choice._

_No, no…I don’t want to leave them behind!_

Darcy unlinked their hands, and stepped forwards, wrapping her arms around her, holding her tightly as Loki swayed, the choice laying heavily on her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry. But you must go.”

Loki hugged her back, squeezing tighter than she ever could on Midguard. “Thank-you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Your Majesty.”

* * *

Darcy waded through the apartment, wrinkling her nose at the mess. “Are you ever going to tidy up, Bingley?” Her brother didn’t look up from his book. “Bing, c’mon, how can you even live in here?”

“I don’t. I am only here because you said you needed to meet me.”

“Yes, I do need to meet you – this just appeared on my lap,” Darcy held up a box, wrapped in dark emerald paper and tied with golden string. “Like, out of nowhere, and the note says that it’s for Lady Lena, and that she’s an alien interdimensional traveller trying to get home.”

“Alien interdimensional traveller? Improbable,” Bingley’s head lifted, the dragon looking over, looking only vaguely intrigued. “Do you think they are more or less primitive than humans?”

Darcy shook the box, listening to the rattle it made. “Yeah, well, this appeared out of nowhere, so I’m thinking magic, and magic equals not human and magic is hard, and I can’t feel anything odd about it – but you’re better at magic than me. Check?”

Bingley grumbled, but nodded, standing and shutting his book, coming over and taking it…and then tearing the wrapping paper right off, cutting the string as he did.

“Bingley! Stop it! That’s not ours!” Darcy tried to take the box back, but he’d already opened it, revealing a thin, plastic case. Darcy frowned, picking it up out of the box and reading the title. “‘Stranger Things’.” Peering at it, Darcy realised it opened, and carefully wedged her fingers in the grooves, cracking it open, to reveal another piece of plastic – but it was round, and was seemingly stuck inside. “What is it?”

Bingley cocked his head sideways. Darcy glanced at him. “Bingley, what are you thinking?”

“It looks like a very thin VHS box.”

Darcy blinked, before shutting it and staring. “You’re right.” Turning it over in her hands, Darcy was pleased to find what looked like a blurb on the back. “‘Set in the nineteen eighties Indiana’ – that’s only, like, two years ago, why? – ‘a young boy named Will (Noah Schnapp) disappears into thin air and the search for him, that includes Will's best friend, Mike (Finn Wolfhard), leads to top secret experiments and a strange little girl (Millie Bobby Brown) in the woods. Starring the ensemble cast of Winona Ryder’ – ooh, I love her! – ‘David Harbour, Finn Wolfhard, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Natalia Dyer, Charlie Heaton, Cara Buono, and Matthew Modine, the Netflix Original, ‘Stranger Things’ is a sci-fi, horror, mystery masterpiece, that pays homage to many beloved movies and TV shows of the twentieth century.’”

“I didn’t understand half of that,” Bingley stated, despite how ‘half of that’ was names. Darcy waved him off, squinting at the smaller writing, before she went completely still. “Darcy? What is it?”

“…this was produced in two thousand and sixteen.”

“That’s even more improbable.”

“Well, we’re apparently going to meet a girl called Lena who we need to give this to, who – if she appears – will prove that both things are correct.” Darcy met eyes with Bingley, watching as her brother looked disgusted by the concept of giving someone something of such value – and it _was_ valuable. It was from the future, after all.

Though Darcy _did_ have to wonder why this Lena needed to watch something from the future. Movies were fictional unless based on real life, so…Darcy looked back to the box, wondering darkly if interdimensional travel included travelling to worlds where cinema was reality.

“Darcy.”

“What, Bingley?”

“If that’s from the future, this Lucy-”

“Lena.”

“-can’t watch it here. She’ll have to go to another dimension, where she can put…whatever that is, in the proper player. We’re a pit-stop for her. I won’t get to question her on the realities of interdimensional travel.”

Darcy gave him a look, “Since when were we going to do anything more than give her the movie?”

“Since we started acting like a post office.”

A pause.

“Alright then. You’re getting better at human expressions, by the way.”

Bingley grumbled, “It’s your fault.”

Darcy beamed. “I know.”

* * *

 

“Why do you have a machete in your school supplies, Vali?” Hela stared at the foot-long blade. Vali laughed at that.

“NEWT-level Herbology! It’s required!”

Hela continued to look at it in horror as Jormungandr directed Tracey on how to throw knives correctly.

“Just adjust your wrist a little – looser, no, firmer.”

“Looser or firmer, Jor?”

“Your wrist has to be looser, your grip tighter.”

“Great.”

Over at the study table, Daphne was proofreading Draco’s essay, as the blonde proofread Blaise’s, as Blaise proofread Hermione’s, as Hermione proofread Daphne’s.

“I didn’t realise you had to include things about lethifolds,” Daphne muttered, frowning slightly.

“You have to talk about what the patronus charm effects negatively!” Vali called as he ran up the wall, somersaulting backwards into the foam shapes-pit. “Dementors aren’t the only thing that get the heebie-jeebies from happy thoughts taken defensive form.”

Daphne pursed her lips, before nodding, continuing to read. “We’re supposed to learn how to cast it soon. Professor Kingsley will be impressed that we already know it.”

“You know the patronus charm already?” Draco questioned, eyebrows knitting together. “Who taught you?”

“Remus.” Vali answered as he got out of the pit, summoning over her skateboard and getting on, casually skating around their table.

“Counsellor Lupin,” Blaise corrected. “He taught Vali, at Vali’s insistence, after the beginning of third year, and Vali taught us.”

“Teach me,” Draco demanded. Vali tutted.

“Be polite, cousin.”

Draco’s lip curled, “Teach me, _please_.”

“The incantation is expecto patronum, and you have to grasp your happiest memory – and it can’t be a weak memory. It has to be powerful, something that makes you smile without thinking.”

“Like flying?”

“ _Not_ like flying. Like, your mother, or your family. “

“Oh…” Draco went quiet, obviously thinking furiously. Hermione glanced at Vali, as he made another round of the table.

“I heard rumours that the dementors affected you very badly. You fell unconscious during the train-ride in third year.”

Vali spoke quietly, “Things happened to me, that I don’t remember – but my nightmares are probably worse than remembering. I can produce a patronus now, so I’m prepared in case I ever run into them again.”

“Can we see?” Hermione questioned. Vali nodded, stopping his skateboard and raising his hands, shutting his eyes. For a moment, there was nothing – and then white light streamed from his hands, like white smoke as it curled and quickly started to mould into the form of a wolf. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank-you,” Vali gave the black girl a brief smile, before his patronus faded and he skated over to his parkour area, which had transformed into a skate park. “Jor, teach me how to do a trick?”

“Sure, bro, just a minute.” Jormungandr watched Tracey steadily as she threw another knife. “See? Piece of cake.” He leant over her shoulder, kissing the corner of her mouth before summoning his skateboard from where it stood against the wall, pushing off towards where Vali was waiting on top of a pyramid ramp. “Alright, so-”

* * *

“Can I get a magazine?”

“Sure, Eisa – which one do you want?” Steve questioned, only to have one held out to him. Taking it, he surveyed the very pink cover. “Okay…anything else?”

Eisa surveyed the store, before her eyes lit up and she ran over to the counter, snatching up a hula-girl that wobbled in place. “Can I get this? Please, please, please!”

Steve’s lip quirked, “Sure, kiddo. Anything else?” Eisa looked around again, before heading for a cool-box. “Oh, no – you aren’t getting an ice-cream.”

“Aw, why not?” Eisa whined, pouting.

“Because Bucky would kill me for letting you have an ice-cream right after you’ve finished one.” And just to prove his point, he swiped his thumb at the corner of her mouth, wiping away a faint trace of vanilla. Eisa flushed, before giving him the hula-girl. Placing it and everything else he was buying on the counter, Steve got out his wallet in preparation, waiting as the teen behind the till scanned everything.

About a minute later, Eisa’s panicked voice caught his attention, “Steve?”

Looking down at her, ignoring how the teen tried to hand him back his change, Steve looked Eisa up and down, noticing how she was slapping her oxygen filter – the one Tony made for her – rapidly, fear in her eyes.

“Eisa, is your filter failing?” Eisa nodded, and Steve immediately swung her backpack off his shoulder, unzipping it and taking out the spare, crouching down beside her and giving it to her to hold as he unclipped the failing one from her trunks. “Eisa, I need you to calm your breathing – in and out, you got it? In and out, in and out…” he continued the mantra, helping her calm her breathing as he turned the filter off, unscrewing her cannula from the side and plugging it into the new one, locking it in before tugging the tubes away from Eisa’s face a little, aiming it away from her nose as the filter blew a puff of anti-bacterial steam through it. After five seconds, Steve put it back to her face, holding it there lightly like Tony and Bucky had instructed.

“Eisa? Is it working okay?” Eisa nodded, eyes screwing up slightly before she rubbed them, nodding again. “Okay, good.” Steve stood straight, looking to the teen behind the counter, only to frown as he lowered his flip-phone, grinning at him.

“You’re an awesome dad.”

“Thank-you,” Steve said without thinking, focusing on the part where he had been aiming his phone at them. “I hope you were ready to be calling emergency services, son, and not videoing us.” The teen scratched his cheek awkwardly, before holding out his change and receipt. Giving him a disappointed look – one that the Commandos had laughed at, until it was aimed at them – Steve zipped Eisa’s rucksack up, grabbing his plastic bag of goods, before taking Eisa’s hand and leading her out of the store at a sedate pace, aware that she was still getting her breath back.

“Tony has to up his game with those filters,” he glanced down at her, getting a light squeeze in return as the girl stayed quiet. “Hey, what do you say about riding on my shoulders?” Eisa looked up, eyes wide.

“It’s so high up though.”

Steve grinned, “It’s a good view. Want to have a go?” Eisa nodded hurriedly, Steve pausing on the sidewalk to lift her up onto his shoulders, smiling as she laughed, putting her arms out.

“I can see for _ages!_ ”

When they got back to the villa they were staying in, Bucky was smoking out on the porch. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of them.

“Well, you look like you’re having a swell time,” he said to Eisa as she grinned.

“He’s taller than you, dad – I can see so far off!”

“Neat,” Bucky said dryly, before stubbing his cigarette and standing, taking the plastic bag from Steve before he swung Eisa down, becoming a little more serious.

“We had a little problem at the store. Eisa’s filter malfunctioned again.”

Bucky immediately became pissed. “I keep _telling_ Stark to make them better. Why won’t he just listen to me for once? That’s the third one this week alone.”

“Can I go swimming in the pool?” Eisa questioned randomly, causing Bucky to shake his head, pointing his finger at her filter.

“Not until that _thing_ is fixed forever.”

“Buck, come on, it’s _Hawaii_. At least let her go out to the beach.”

Bucky grumbled, before waving her off. “Fine. Take her to the beach. I’m going to call Stark about Eisa being his little test-bunny, and make dinner.” He went back into the villa, Eisa turning to Steve.

“Take me to the beach?”

“Sure, kiddo. Let’s just get a new spare,” Steve motioned to her backpack, causing her to run inside, probably to go get a new filter. Steve sighed contentedly. He never thought his life would be this, this…

_Happy. You’re happy, Rogers._

Steve smiled.

* * *

 _So many people to leave behind_ , Loki thought viciously, hating Darcy Lewis with vigour in that moment as she sagged in the alley-way she’d landed in, hand going to the bite-mark on her neck. Her last universe – one of alphas and betas and omegas and _mates_ – had been refreshing and a break from the insanity that was her life. It had been seven hundred and eight lefts since Jotunheim, and she hadn’t returned since, instead stopping on Midguard, Asgard, Vanaheim and even Svartalfheim once. Midguard had been her most common stop in comparison, a grand majority of three visits to the planet in various universes since leaving, the world of pack-like dynamics included. Seven universes, dimensions – and now eight.

It had been ten years since she had seen her children, had held them in her arms, had pressed kisses to their heads, had listened to them speak and read their letters. Ten years.

Granted, in Aesir terms – Jotun terms – ten years were a blink of the eye, and those ten years had been good years, maybe even some the best years she’d had when not taking those with her children and Sigyn into account. Each universe gave herself something that Loki would never forget, _could_ never forget. Marks, skills, experiences…and the understanding that she needed people, needed companionship. The worlds where she lived alone, and made no allies, those were the worlds she hated the most. But still, it cut Loki to the bone not to have seen her sons, her daughters…and to think, she had only just met Jormungandr again, the first of her children, the oldest and _first._

A groan caught her attention. Looking up, Loki listened again, catching the laboured breaths of a woman. Standing, she followed the sounds, only having to move a few feet forwards, to an open bin. She sighed, recognising the figure inside.

“What might your name be this time, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Mary? Matthew? Matthea?”

It was strange that Loki always ran into heroes like the one in front of her – the one time she hadn’t, and instead arrived in a world where she was a comic-book character, the comic’s name being _MARVEL_ , and the universe being what Loki recognised as ‘ _DC’_ , Loki instead ran into the villains.

Though, her involvement in that universe did eventually turn that universe’s villains _into_ heroes. Alex Danvers had been extremely appreciative of her accidental turning of the one known as ‘Astra’. Honestly, all Loki had done was react violently to Astra facing her niece – her _only_ remaining blood-relative who she had been on _good_ terms with – and return the woman to the holding cell which she had been previously assigned before her escape.

As for Daredevil – whatever her name might be in this universe – Loki could only assume she was very early on in her career. Usually, when they met – and they had met _several_ times – Daredevil was either not Daredevil at all, only a child, or a vigilante of some renown. Once, he’d been both. ‘Young Avengers’, indeed. Nothing had made him more qualified, other than his powers, than by his parentage. The Black Widow’s son was afraid of very few things in life, his mother included.

 _I will check up on them, when I return home_ , Loki decided as she lifted Daredevil from her place inside the bin, quieting the young lawyer as she cried pitifully. It would not do to find that Daredevil’s life had deviated from any timeline Loki was familiar with – she did not want a villain on her hands, or worse, a _civilian_ , in someone with so much potential.

Going towards a nearby apartment block, Loki searched for an empty room, finding one in the basement. Going down, Loki locked the door behind her before finding an old sofa on happenstance. Putting her down, Loki knelt, ridding the woman of her clothes…to find she was not exactly a woman. Or a man. _Both, perhaps?_ Loki hummed, before ignoring both examples of gender, instead focussing on the hero’s injuries.

“You are hurt greatly, child,” Loki shut her eyes, letting her magic – which by now had been given plenty of time to identify with the magic of the new universe – reach out, healing them slowly, simultaneously searching for a name. **_Mattie Murdock._** Only so much could be drawn from a name. In the universe of the young Daredevil, he identified as _Матвея Климент Харченкo_ , or Matvei Kliment Romanov, _or_ , Anglicised for American purposes, Matthew Clinton Romanoff. It was a bit dramatic. But simply Mattie Murdock only revealed that they had no parents who they would take the name of, and so not any mentor that Mattie would care for in such a way.

Once they were healed properly, Loki remained on the floor, crossing her legs and keeping a metaphoric eye on _Mattie_ , shutting her literal eyes as she succumbed to sleep.

The bite on her neck itched.

And then her skin was once more blank.

* * *

_ Several Years Early: Midguard _

“Hey!”

Loki ignored the caller, even as they ran up the street behind her to grab her shoulder.

“Hey, slow down, lady. You said my _words_.” They said it like it was the end of the world. Loki rolled her eyes, looking to her watch. She would be late for her train if she didn’t go soon, and SHIELD were watching her, so she couldn’t teleport to her Very Important Job Slash Appointment That She Should Not Be Late For.

“I am well aware of who you are, and I do not wish to associate with you.”

The person took back their hand like they’d been burned. The people around them whispered and gasped, a circle forming.

“But- but I’m _Justin Hammer_.”

“As I said, I am well aware. And. I. Do. Not. Wish. To. Associate. With. You.” Loki said it slowly, staring at him in amusement, smirking slightly, “And as for your words, well, how many people say, ‘Good morning’ to you? Chasing down one very beautiful, very high-profile associate of Nina Stark, Justin – naughty-naughty. If the words I have clear on my shoulder,” she glanced at the fake black text, visible due to the transparency of her white blouse, “were _real_ words, I would actually bother with you. But unlike the rest of polite society, my words aren’t in an appropriate place, and nor are they appropriate themselves, so…” A limo honked from the nearby sidewalk, the window rolling down.

“Ma’am,” Happy Hogan called out, “You sure you wouldn’t like that lift to the kindergarten?”

Loki glanced over, “Happy, I have told Nina a thousand times that I can pick up Peter on my own. I am her friend, and I have no designs in stealing her son, unlike some of her previous ‘friends’.” Loki tosses her hair, which she had recently taken upon leaving free instead of tying back in a hundred braids. She glares at the surrounding pedestrians. “Though perhaps the subway is not adequate today. And I do not wish to be followed by this pillock.” She motions off-handedly to Hammer, who looks impetuous enough at the moment to follow her the entire way before JARVIS calls the NYPD on him.

“Of course, ma’am,” Happy nodded, exiting the limo and opening up the door for her. Inside, Nina is glaring through the window at Hammer, muttering truly impressive curses in Italian.

The door shuts.

“Nina, I swear to you, I wouldn’t have let harm come to him,” Loki soothes, holding out her hand. Nina takes it, holding on tightly.

“I know, soulmate, but it’s difficult, after Stane.” Loki’s grip increases.

“Stane is dead, and I am the favourite aunt of your son in the way Stane _never_ was yours. I swear to the Norns, sister, I would never let anyone take him.”

“And what if you have to go?” Nina questions, turning her gaze from Hammer as the limo pulls away, looking at her in that desperate, fearful way that Loki _hates_. “What if Odin comes here and tries to take you? Peter would be left all alone.”

Loki swallows, considering the circumstances. She never knew what happened when Odin found her, never knew whether he stayed to investigate, or left, knowing that she wasn’t there. Darcy warned her, beforehand, as always, if not because she knew to tell her, but because always – _always_ – as soon as Loki met her, Odin would find her within a day.

Her eyes stray to the windows.

And there she is, staring at Natasha Romanov like she just told her that donuts were illegal.

Loki curses fate, and wraps her platonic soulmate in her arms one last time.

* * *

_“Oh, you’re so very, very sexy right now to me, and so damn fuckable – you know that right?” Antonina Stark says to her as she hands over a mug of coffee. Loki’s eyebrow ticks in annoyance._

_“And you do know that your son is right behind you?”_

_Antonina spills her coffee all over herself, spluttering. “Oh, holy f- fudgesticks. Peter?” She swings around, picking up the two year old who already has his face screwed up as he tries to pronounce the prolific language she’d just used. “Peter, no, no, don’t say it-”_

_“Fuckables,” he says, and Antonina groans, before turning to Loki, pointing at her._

_“You’re his new aunt, help me make him understand that language like that isn’t good language to use.”_

_“And why should I?” Loki questions, before feeling a burning around her bellybutton. Frowning, she looks down, tugging up her shirt to find the silver nautilus forming – Antonina’s words, word-for-word, printing onto her skin._

_“That’s why, platonic. Boom, soulmates – you’re Peter’s new aunt.” She hands him over, before taking off her jumper and throwing it into the nearby laundry basket for the kindergarten workers. “Nice. You inspired me to get a kid, by the way.”_

_“Oh,” Loki says, still staring at the boy now in her arms. He reminds her of Eisa, when he was young – brown-haired and brown-eyed. Almost the same shade, only eyes like Loki’s able to see the miniscule difference. “Hello.”_

_“Hello,” Peter says in that familiar baby-tone, and Loki can’t help but shut her burning eyes._

_“Woah, are you okay?”_

_“No, I am not ‘okay’,” she whispers, before handing him back and taking a pen, writing her newest cell-phone number on Antonina Stark’s arm. “Telephone me one day hence, at six forty-five pm.” Then, she left._

_Her shift was over, anyway._


	5. Chapter 5

Annabeth’s scream woke her entire cabin. They tried to wake her, but Annabeth was stuck in a dream she couldn’t escape.

Or rather, a memory.

_There was blood everywhere. And Vali kept growling. Sigyn screamed alongside Loki as he continued to munch down on Narfi’s body, their boy still alive even after all he’d been through – the curse of the Aesir, the curse of magic. No doubt, Odin wouldn’t lift it until Vali too was wounded so badly that neither would be able to live once it was gone. All around them, people jeered and cheered the wolf on for eating his brother, his own flesh and blood._

_Desperate to look away, Sigyn turned her gaze on Loki, calling for her wife, asking her to do something, **anything**. But Loki only cried and screamed, and Sigyn could only imagine what she was going through._

_Jormungandr. Sleipnir. Hela. Fenrir. Narfi and Vali. Those were the names Sigyn and Loki whispered together each night before sleep. Loki had seen them all go…_

_A pitiful sob, barely able to be heard over the crowd, caused her to jerk back to looking at her boys, her babies. Narfi’s chest moved up and down, shuddering, the wolf growling louder than ever, before ripping into his throat, his cries dying. Sigyn and Loki both let out twin cries of grief, Sigyn watching her wife as she raged against Odin’s magic, and his Chains, her green magic – her beautiful, comforting, chaotic green magic – unable to get any further from her body than an inch. It shouldn’t be like that, Sigyn knew, Sigyn **knew**. Loki’s magic was a boundless, never-ending force._

_Odin should not be able to wrap it in golden links and imprison it. No-one should._

_Shutting her eyes, Sigyn fell to despair, letting out one final scream of agony before finally falling silent._

In Cabin Six, Annabeth woke, salty tears weeping from her eyes. Above her, Athena looked down, quietly confused, the Goddess brushing a hand through her golden curls.

“My daughter, you have singlehandedly managed to scare me so thoroughly, that I am breaking Ancient Laws to be by your side,” she whispered in a hush, the surrounding campers – her siblings, all forty-three of them – and Luke and Charlie, and Chiron and Dionysus watching on. Annabeth opened her mouth to speak – but what came out caused Athena to look at her in more than worry. “Daughter, hush, you are speaking in tongues most unfamiliar.”

Annabeth stopped, before starting to sob again, rolling into her mother’s embrace. “Mother, I don’t want to remember, I want to forget, I want to remember-”

“Annabeth, darling, you aren’t making any sense-”

“My name was Sigyn,” Annabeth sobbed, “I had a family, and a life and Odin _took_ it. He turned my sons against each other and Vali _ripped_ his brother apart. Mother, I remember and I want to never forget, but I _want to forget_.”

“What does she mean?” Her siblings whispered among themselves, while Athena looked on her with calculating eyes.

“Tell me more, daughter.”

Annabeth shook in her arms, “Odin found them, he found them, and they were lost – they went exploring, _they_ _shouldn’t have left the forest_. And Odin found them and it was terrible, mother, and I came to the village and they surrounded a pit, and Narfi and Vali were inside and there was no way out, and Odin had taken their grasps on magic, and before I could try, before I could do _anything_ , he had me too and they burnt me and said they were abominations when they _weren’t_ , they were my _sons_ , my _babes._ And then Loki came, and Odin imprisoned her too, and she- she couldn’t get out, mother. He trapped her, and she couldn’t escape and her magic, oh her _magic_. He trapped it inside her and stopped her from using it, and he turned Vali into a wolf and he _ate_ his brother.” Annabeth stopped speaking, unable to stop crying as Athena more fully gathered her in her arms, rocking her.

“Where did he burn you, darling?” Athena questioned, before the young girl’s shirt slipped from its place, showing the edge of a bright red scar, obvious against the golden white tan of her skin. Athena shuffled Annabeth in place, turning her around and removing it, staring as Annabeth curled up into a ball, gripping the side of the bed. “Oh, my daughter…”

 Luridly coloured, the skin as bright a red as the Campers shirts were orange, jagged scars marked her back, encompassing the whole of it. Athena would have thought scars that deep would leave a person _dead_.

The Goddess wondered if Annabeth remembered dying, in her past life.

In the centre of her scars though, was a circle left clear, a dark mark that scented of _betrayal_ and _evil_ and _traitor_ and _mother of monsters_ and _sick_ and _magic_ tattooed into her skin. It was a curse – one that Athena doubted even Hecate could remove if she tried.

“Everyone out,” she said, voice cold. No-one moved. She whipped around, glaring at her children, brothers, niece and nephew. “ ** _OUT!_** ” They scattered, pouring out of the Big House, leaving Athena alone with her daughter, who was so now obviously older than her years presented. By the time her last sibling left the building, she was quiet, her sobs abated though her cheeks remained wet.

“Annabeth.” She didn’t reply. Athena debated the merits of calling _Sigyn_ , but she had no love for a stranger. Annabeth was her daughter, and she was Annabeth now and _would_ be Annabeth until she was dead and reincarnated once more. Athena carefully moved her, turning her once more and putting her shirt back on manually, tipping her chin, looking into hollow eyes. “Annabeth, in your past life, you were a woman with great many tortures, and a great many treasures. Do not forget your pain, but do not let it consume you, for if you do, those great many treasures will be forgotten.”

Athena would applaud herself when Annabeth returned, eyes less empty, but she only felt guilt, seated heavy in her chest. _I should have attended to her alone. I should have recognised the signs before this happened._ Annabeth was little over eight – or little over nine, or even ten full years, if you included those which she did not live and should have gestated. Athena’s children were born a year old, with knowledge already entrapped in their mind. It might be nothing, or it might be everything – or maybe it was destined.

Either way, Annabeth would carry the curse that Athena recognised as one of _recognition_ , for the rest of her souls existence. She would always know who she was, who she had been.

“Mother, make me forget.”

Athena did not hesitate to answer.

“ _No._ ”

* * *

“Lucky, roll over,” Eisa commanded, the retriever rolling happily, and then rolling back to his normal spot…and then rolling again and again, tail thumping the floor. “Lucky, play dead.” Lucky paused to play dead for a few seconds, visibly thrumming with energy, but soon he was back to rolling. Eisa huffed, before shaking her head and getting up off the floor, meandering over to where her uncles were staring at each other at the dining table.

“What’s for lunch?” She questioned. Usually she would get a sandwich from a store, after getting back from swim practice and gymnastics, before taking her bike to Saturday ballet class, but it was some kind of holiday for her gymnastics instructor – Yom Kippur, if Eisa remembered right.

Uncle Loki looked away from Tony at that, “What would you like, niece?”

Eisa thought on it for a second. “Sushi?” Uncle Loki looked to Tony.

“Do you know any adequate establishments nearby?”

Tony shrugged, “Sure. Want Happy to pick something up for us?”

Eisa wrinkled her nose but nodded, wandering over to the window, looking down on the street below. It made her shiver, being up so high – but Uncle Tony lived in a penthouse in Manhattan, rather than the third floor of an apartment building in Brooklyn. Her dad and Steve were having the weekend to themselves, going to visit friends they’d known back in the forties. Running her eyes through the crowds, she used her ever-present magic to increase her eyesight for a moment, something Uncle Loki had taught her just that morning, looking through the rain, taking in the faces of the New Yorkers rushing, rushing, rushing…

Eisa froze though, upon stumbling across a familiar face.

Without thinking about anything else, Eisa span, running towards the lift, hurrying to press the button for the ground floor.

“ _Miss Lokidottr, what is the matter?_ ” JARVIS’ familiar voice rang through her ears, accent soothing her frazzled thoughts.

“He’s down on the street – he’s acting like a _homeless_ person! I need to go see him!”

“Niece?” Uncle Loki approached, “Who do you need to see?”

Eisa swivelled around, “Fenrir!”

In an instant, Hela appeared in a swirl of shadow, hair dark as ever, hands gripping Eisa’s shoulders like vices.

“Where?”

“Below, on the street, beside the _Titanic_ poster!” Hela’s gaze burned into hers, before she once more disappeared, leaving Eisa in the lift with her uncles – Tony having followed Loki.

“JARVIS, bring us down,” he ordered.

“ _Yes, sir._ ” JARVIS replied, before the doors closed, and they began their descent.

* * *

Hela didn’t give Fenrir a single chance to run, as she glared down at him murderously, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up, slamming him against the concrete tiles behind him. They cracked at the pressure.

“Why did you run away?” Hela said scornfully, in no way asking a question. “Was it because you were a coward? Was it because you thought life was terrible?”

“Sister,” Fenrir grunted, smiling sarcastically, “How lovely to see you again.” He was covered in dirt and streaks of mud, and he was missing a shirt below his over-sized hoodie. The unpleasant odour would have been cause for Hela to grimace, but she was too angry to care. “How’s the family?”

“Missing both you and mother, who, _by the way_ , will be home soon.” Hela tightened her grip on him, becoming less angry and more upset. “Eisa saw you out the window.”

Fenrir glanced up. “What window?”

“The penthouse. James and Steve Rogers look after her and house her, as Jormungandr suggested, but she is spending the weekend with Tony Stark and mother’s counterpart, who deigned to offer his assistance, seeing as Tony Stark is inept in caring for himself, let alone another human being.” There was a frosty silence, before Fenrir’s expression suddenly became morbidly bewildered.

“Hela, your face.”

“What about my face?”

“It’s…” Fenrir raised a hand, motioning to her incredulously, “It’s _different_. And your hair is lighter…” he frowned lightly. “Sister, your appearance changes every second. You’re slipping between forms.”

Hela was disturbed by his words, “No, that’s not what is happening – Vali writes of my behaviours in his journals. I am continually staying as one persona for weeks on end-”

“Well, I must have more of an effect on you, because you are switching between blonde and brunette faster than you should,” he interrupted, his eyes flickering behind her. “And the humans are noticing.”

Hela glanced to them, casting a ward of confusion around them both as she realised he was correct. Across the street, their ‘Uncle’ Loki held back both Eisa and Stark, staring at them. Hela caught a magic aimed in her direction. _You have precious little time before I help Eisa cross this road, niece-Queen._ Hela looked back to Fenrir.

“Why did you leave?” The question was genuine this time. Fenrir stayed silent. “Fen, please, we have missed you desperately – _I_ have missed you desperately.”

“I’m sorry if I caused you distress, sister,” Fenrir murmured, “Please trust that it was not my intention.”

“I am trying to tell you, brother – you have caused more than _me_ distress,” Hela tried to explain, voice broken, “Did you not think of our brothers? Our sister? There are more people than simply me who care about you now, Fenrir. Vali is the only understanding one – he thinks you need time, that you’ll come home to us eventually. But I do not have it in my heart to tell him that while he may be correct, you are a different being from he, that he does not- _has_ not lived long enough to gain true insight into the minds of creatures such as we. You might take yet another century to come home.” Her grip changed, her arms wrapping around his neck. Fenrir hugged her tightly, and she could sense Uncle Loki approaching, Eisa no doubt by his side.

Soon, her small form collided with theirs, and she was crying so dearly, Hela actually wondered if it could convince Fenrir to stay.

* * *

Tony Stark had always been bad at social interactions which didn’t include flirting with guys and gals till they slept with him – and even then, he was most likely drunk at the time. JARVIS – on that bad, terrible, _fucking awful_ day where he asked JARVIS to compile a comprehensive list of all the things wrong with him in a moment where he wanted to know just exactly how fucked up he was on top of everything else – said he showed signs of being neurodivergent, aka on the autistic spectrum. Tony hadn’t taken it well, knowing all too well the stigma attached, in that day and age. Of course, then JARVIS had actually told him what it meant for Tony to _be_ neurodivergent.

It was to be himself. He’d been like that all his life. It’s what made Tony Stark _Tony Stark_. So unless he wanted to hate himself for how his brain was wired, he’d better get over it.

He didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t tell Obadiah, or Rhodey, or Pepper. But it was quite surprising to find that whenever he talked to Loki – either Loki – he was more at ease than he could remember ever being. He _wanted_ to tell them. It was…odd, to say the least. He’d told no-one, not even talked about it to anyone other than JARVIS and the bots, venting quiet, loud thoughts about the reality he lived with every day.

Unfortunately, it was hard to find the time, especially seeing as he was procrastinating. Tony didn’t see Loki – Prince Loki – very often, due to the fact that he was busy in Asgard most days, his spare time dedicated to his nieces and nephews. The time they _did_ spend together was brief and piteous. Nowhere near long enough to explain his neurodivergency and what that truly meant.

Well, there _was_ time, but usually they were busy banging each other’s brain out.

A hum turned his attention to the device he was fiddling with. Looking down, focussing properly, Tony grinned at the sight of the working server, light glowing blue.

“Yes…FRIDAY, how’s it going in there?”

The miniaturised AI beeped, “ _Unfamiliar admin. Authorisation code required. Please state authorisation code and designation._ ” Tony grinned at the accent – strange and thick, inspired by the fact that he’d chosen an English accent for JARVIS.

“Authorisation code: delta-Friday-Hunan-Larsen – passphrase, luck of the Irish. Designation: admin two. Admin one will be introduced shortly, sans authorisation code.”

“ _Processing_.” The small LED flickered from blue to orange, before becoming green. “ _Authorisation code accepted. Passphrase accepted. Designation accepted. Hello, Admin Two._ ”

“Hello, FRIDAY,” Tony greeted, before pressing a button. “That’s your private connection to JARVIS open – J, how’s she doing?”

“ _FRIDAY is functioning as designed, sir – though, she is still quite small for my tastes._ ”

“Eisa’s brilliant, unfortunately,” Tony replied, before pressing down on a section of the moderately small device, causing it to decompress and lift, revealing a thump-print scanner. Scanning his print in, he waited until FRIDAY had lit up green before continuing. “If FRIDAY wasn’t small enough, wasn’t compact enough, Eisa might decide to give her some upgrades that could spell disaster. FRIDAY’s a mobile AI, built for the sole purpose of monitoring Eisa and her oxygen filter.” He shut the scanner, checking out the latch before nodding. “Where is the little firecracker, anyway?”

“ _Her Highness is currently at school, sir, and delightfully bored._ ”

“Can I take her out of school?”

“ _Sergeant Barnes has listed you as an emergency contact, after the aliases of Prince Jormungandr, Prince Loki, Queen Hela and Captain Rogers._ ”

“So, yeah, I can take her out of school,” Tony packed FRIDAY into a nearby bag before standing, making his way over to where one of his Porsche’s sat, looking pretty. “How do they get in contact with Loki?”

“ _Sergeant Barnes provided a phone number._ ”

“Awesome. Call it.”

“ _Sir, may I ask why?_ ”

Tony got into the car, turning the keys waiting in the ignition, revelling in the hum of the engine. “Because I asked, J – me and Lokester need to have a chat, before I chicken out completely.”

“ _…Of course, sir. Calling Loki Laufeyson now._ ”

* * *

Loki barely avoided dodging the swipe aimed at her face as she stopped stepping Sideways, ducking and taking account of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the amount of things decorated with dragons – it wasn’t even funny. The wallpaper of the room was decorated with dragons, the lamp beside the dragon-print sofa projected dragon-like shadows over the room, the pictures and tapestries on the walls were _of dragons_.

 _Norns, the only_ not _-dragon thing in the room is the poster for ET_. Loki remembered watching that with Natasha – a teenage version of Tony Stark who had dragged her into her home after Loki made the mistake (?) of not flirting with her aging father – as she backed away from the wide-eyed, pimply boy who had deigned to attempt to hit her.

“Who are you?! How did you get in here?!” A familiar voice yelled from behind her, fear lacing the edge of it. Loki stiffened.

“Darcy?”

There was a pause, “Wait, are you Lady Lena?” Loki slowly turned half-way around to greet the woman, keeping an eye on the other whose presence tasted distinctly _not_ human. But upon taking in Darcy, she quickly realised that much the same could be said for her ‘guide’.

“I am Lena, yes. What knowledge are you to gift upon me this time?” Loki straightened, watching the woman like a hawk as she glanced between the man, Loki, and a cupboard on the other side of the room.

“Can you prove you are who you say you are?” Darcy questioned her slowly. Loki tilted her head.

_She is unaware of her role in my life._

“I do not have a way to prove my name is Lena, seeing as it is an alias in itself,” Loki eventually divulged. Darcy made a face.

“Well, that’s off-putting…” she snapped her fingers, “I’ve got an idea.” She rushed over to the cupboard she’d been glancing at before, the man making an aborted sound of irritation as Darcy produced…a DVD. Loki raised her eyebrow.

“What am I watching?”

Darcy punched the air, “I _knew_ it!”

“ _We_ knew it,” the man interrupted. Darcy rolled her eyes, throwing it to Loki, who caught it with ease, peering at the plastic casing.

“‘Stranger Things’,” Loki murmured, before feeling Odin’s shadow falling over her. Swallowing, heart-beat rising, she hurriedly put it in her pocket, locking eyes with Darcy. “Thank-you, but I must go. Odin approaches. My apologies if he appears here after my departure.”

“Hey, don’t leave, we’ve got questions-” Loki stepped Sideways, only feeling vaguely regretful as she stepped through the walls of the worlds, one after the other – but quickly halting as her magic blared a warning.

Immediately upon materialising, Loki was set upon by a powerful presence. Instinctively, she raised a sword, catching the daggers by the skin of her teeth, flipping them away as she locked onto burning silver eyes.

“Who are you?” The auburn-haired woman hissed, eyes glassy. Around them, two young girls and a boy raised weapons that glimmered in the moonlight. Behind them stood a man, a plane by his side, and beside _that_ , a silver chariot led to deer. Loki didn’t understand. _Why would my magic tell me to stop here?_

“I- I am confused,” Loki admitted out loud, trying to figure out the reason for her stopover in this world. Her magic had never told her when she had to stop, all her choices her own, though mayhaps they were predestined choices. _What guided me here? What does my magic need me to do?_ “Who are you?”

“I am Artemis, and you are apparently _confused_ ,” the woman glared, “I am Artemis Phoebe, Goddess of- of _so_ many things that are of no importance in this moment. I am Artemis, and _who_ are _you?_ ”

“My name is Loki,” Loki decided to tell the truth, sensing that something had happened _very_ recently in this woman’s life, and that she would not take lies at this time. “What ails you, shield-sister?” She lowered her sword slowly, giving the other the chance to take her own weapons away, the daggers lowering a scant second later.

“Death, death is what ails me – death of a friend and comrade. You are not of my Pantheon, though. We should not be speaking. But while that is true, I do not believe I am so misinformed as to mistake your gender. Loki Odinson is that, a son. You are no son.”

“No, I am not, and of Odin, I am not either,” Loki shook her head, standing tall, summoning her armour, shedding her human dress. Gungnir appeared in her grasp, flickering in an out of existence long enough that Loki pulled her gaze from Artemis to the object, scowling. “ ** _Choose a side, you beastly object. I am Queen, Odin is not King, and Thor gave up his throne_**.” The staff glimmered, the magic around it filling with dark humour. Loki glared at it for a little longer before looking back to Artemis.

“I am Loki, but not the Loki that you may – or as it turns out, may not – know. I am a Loki who has travelled between the fabrics of the worlds, fleeing one who would persecute me, while also trying to find my way home to those I love. My powers though, I have learnt to listen to, and they told me to stop here. I am Loki, yet I am not.”

Artemis eyed her, before nodding decisively, looking to the children behind her. “I must go to Olympus immediately. I will not be able to take you, but I will send help.” She raised a hand to the shoulder of the blonde child, to whom Loki stared at, unable to identify her, but… _I know her. I **know** her._

“You are brave beyond measure, Annabeth Chase. You will do what is right.” Her hand lowered, and she turned her attention to the second girl, the two sharing a moment, before Artemis looked finally to the third – a boy, who looked remarkably like Vali, but with a different shade of green for his eyes, and a more tanned complexion that reminded Loki of the television surfers, from the island of Hawaii. _He certainly seems strong enough_ , Loki tilted her head, both admiring his personal aesthetic and the power flowing through him, powerful and deep.

Loki knew that – in her world, and in many others – Midguard was lorded over by divine beings, who solely relied upon mortals for their existence, and who, occasionally, produced what they called ‘demigods’. This boy must have been one, if Loki was correct in assuming this Artemis was one of these divine beings. Loki thought herself above average in detecting their presence amongst mundanes.

It was how she liked to track down Vali, after all.

“You did well, for a man,” Artemis pronounced as she faced the demigod-boy. Loki raised an eyebrow, knowing the reputation surrounding her across the multiverse. The boy opened his mouth, going to speak, but seemingly decided not to as Artemis turned back to Loki. “Join me.” Artemis then walked over to the silver chariot Loki had noticed earlier, Loki following her quickly, sparing a last glance at the girl who seemed so familiar, before stepping up to join the redhead.

Upon touching the chariot, Loki felt uneasy, her magic wrapping in swirls around its core, as if trying to protect itself. The chariot began to glow silver, and the form Loki saw upon the Goddess melted away – as did the chariot. Loki reached out with her power, latching on to a tether that was quickly offered by Artemis, as both Goddess’ noticed how she was not able to simply let it take her.

The time it took to appear inside what must have been Olympus though, was nothing. In fact, it was nothing more than a simple flash across the lands, but unfortunately, different enough that upon reappearing in solid form, Loki had to consciously stop herself from throwing up what little sat inside her stomach.

Artemis gave her a curious look, “I find it unsettling to be within another Pantheons domain – is much the same for you?”

Loki breathed in deeply, before shaking her head, standing shakily, “No. As I explained before, I am not the Loki you would recognise. I am something different – something perhaps older than yourself.”

Artemis snorted at that, “I highly doubt that.” Loki raised an eyebrow, lip quirking slightly as they began walking towards a set of doors.

“I will be twenty-six thousand years young, in a few decades from now.” Artemis looked at her, startled.

“Truly?”

“Truly,” Loki nodded, before they entered a large room _brimming_ with the same kind of power Artemis was made of, but each so different from another that it was very easy for Loki to differentiate.

Though, she had to wonder why they chose to expand their solid forms to heights of plus twenty feet.

“Artemis, who is this?” One who chose a male form glared at her, voice booming across the room. Artemis approached the last throne to hold none, enlarging to fit it as she sat. Loki briefly considered what would happen if Thor had the ability to expand his form beyond Aesir constraints, and quickly pushed it aside, fearful she would start laughing at the havoc her imagination immediately conjured.

“Father,” Artemis said respectfully, nodding, “This is a traveller – she claims to be a being unfamiliar to us, who claims to be named Loki.” There were varied reactions from the other eleven seated, before the man stood, pointing a gigantic lightning bolt at her.

“You are not supposed to be here! Leave, now, Norse one!”

Loki spoke dryly, leaning on Gungnir boredly. “Such hospitality. I _must_ recommend visiting Olympus to others.”

“ _Leave,_ ” another power hissed, looking quite irate. She sat beside the man, who Loki supposed was…Zeus, which would make the woman Hera, unless she was mistaken in her assumptions.

“I should not. Yet.” Loki paused to shut her eyes, listening to her magic as it whispered to her. _It is not time, do not leave. Danger, danger – do not leave. Find somewhere safe, safe place._ But then she had to clap her hands to her ears as something- someone- _Gungnir_ , screamed at her, screeching as it laughed.

**_Queensleep! Queensleep! Queensleep! Queensleep!_ **

“Lady Loki?” Artemis’ power reached out, an invisible hand of questioning. “Lady Loki-”

“I know why I am here,” Loki swayed on her feet, already feeling her magic draining. She dropped to her knees, hand going to grip Gungnir tightly as the magic around it cackled in perverse glee. “I am the Queen of Asgard, and I wield Gungnir. The powers of the Allmother fall upon me, and nowhere was safe until now. I charge you all, by the Norns and the Fates, to watch over me as I slumber…until the Queensleep ends.” She could barely keep her eyes open, a heaviness pulling her down as the three Norns appeared in front of her, crooning and whispering songs of protection, stroking her hair and taking her shoulders and weight.

And then her eyes slid shut, and she knew no more.

* * *

_A golden throne room. Asgard. Jormungandr sat upon the Kings Throne, Gungnir in hand. At his feet, a brown-haired woman sat with a boy with blonde hair. Off to the side, Loki was laughing at something Thor, of all people, had said, a young girl with a wide, toothy grin on her hip – and a second Gungnir, in Thor’s hand._

_“What is this?” Loki whispered to herself, walking through the vision, meeting the eyes of her future self briefly before the future Loki glanced behind her. Loki frowned, turning, only to gasp at the sight of her children, the Avengers, and dozens of other Midguardians dancing along to joyful music. A banner, obviously from Earth, was tied between two pillars near the doors, bearing the words, ‘HAPPY CORONATION SNAKEY’, the SI logo prominent at either end. Loki let out a startled laugh._

_Jormungandr would be King of Asgard._

_In her hand, her Gungnir hummed amusedly. **It seems we are destined to be parted, dear Loki.**_

_Loki looked to the staff, snorting. Hopefully._

* * *

More visions followed, future and past, dimension to dimension. She saw Nina and Peter a family together, a male counterpart of hers a part of it. She saw her pack – unhappy at her loss, wallowing in depression until Clint’s first child was born, a perfect little replica of Loki despite being Steve’s child, and they were overjoyed. She saw Darcy of Jotunheim, with her Heartmate, living with her clan and Thor’s clan, combined as one, the true Loki of their dimension growing sweetly under the care of his clan into the most powerful sorcerer their planet had ever seen, to overthrow Odin Frost-Bane and give the throne to Helblindi.

Then she saw her.

Saw the blonde girl.

_Annabeth Chase._

**_Sigyn_**.

Loki remembered what she’d done for the girl as a child, helping her find her friends, enchanting the photo. _Such a familiar face, yet I did not realise_ , Loki bemoaned in her Queensleep. The girl in this universe, she looked like Sigyn, but she was not – but the girl in the universe Loki called home was her former beloved. Loki wept, and time passed – she could feel it, sense it, as her magic was given to the Well of Urd in payment for Odin’s gifts, gifts she did not even have due to his lack of death and overabundance of life for such an old man.

When she finally awoke, it was in a strange room, in a strange place, and she could somehow tell that years had passed. Loki did not stay much longer.


End file.
